Robb Wells Height Novels & Stories

It was a guy she had seen around the gym a few times before. They had said hello to one another a few times and chatted briefly, but that was about it. She knew that his name was Rob. He was a well-built, athletic guy with a deep tan, a handsome face, and dark hair with dark green eyes. She had to admit that sometimes she liked to check him out when he was working out. He was definitely one of the best-looking guys in the gym - and there seemed to be quite a lot of good-looking guys there anyway. He was in his mid-thirties - at least, that was what she thought. He looked great for his age.

I wasn’t trying to impress him. A firm knock rattled the door. My heart skipped as I opened it. There he was. Mr. Blackwell filled the entire doorway, easily 6’3” of solid, muscular Black man. His dark skin gleamed under the hallway light, and he wore a simple white tank top that strained against his broad chest and powerful shoulders. Grey sweatpants hung low on his narrow hips, the drawstring tied loosely. A tool belt dangled from one hand, but my eyes barely registered it.

Though he couldn't allow Gabby's mate to do that, when he found his mate that was. Seeing the she-wolf in the light of the day his men weren't wrong, she was indeed a tiny she-wolf, their estimate of their height was off though, those boots of hers added a good two inches of height to her small frame, she couldn't be more than 5"6'. He was going to tower over the top of her when they came face to face, she would fear him instantly. He smiled to himself, he was 6"10' and muscled to the hilt, his shoulders so wide he only just fit through a standard sized door way.

she asked. Yvonne hesitated. She didn't know Samuel's measurements. Since she was compensating him as a form of apology, she definitely needed to order an entire set. "Please wait a moment. I'll ask," she said at last. She then hesitantly sent Howard a message. "May I ask how tall Mr. Hover is, Mr. Wellington?" Howard was confused upon receiving her message, but he didn't withhold any information from her. "Mr. Hover is six feet and two inches tall."

••••🍀RACHEL🍀 I was introduced to the members of the gang. They were all tough looking and dangerous enough to shake you off. Rumbo Jack, the tallest amongst them all. About 7ft 3inches tall with long, wavy dirty blonde hair. He was more muscular than the rest and he was called the gang’s muscle. I was told he specializes in the use of knives and daggers and was more deadly than a raging bull.

*Edited Breanna's POV She noticed a jar of chocolate chip cookies on the top cabinet and reached to grab it, but the house was clearly made for tall people, because even on her tippy toes, she still didn't reach. "You're so small." He side stepped her and grabbed the jar, she let out a sharp breath at his bluntness. "I'm a whooping 5'7." She stood tall, but he didn't seem impressed. "I'm 6'6." He said with a clear face. Breanna's mouth dropped to the floor. She saw his lip twitched trying to hide his smile.

Maybe it's his position, he knows how powerful he is and wielded that power into his persona. He is 6.3' or 6.4' in height. I can see his biceps flexing as he changes mobile to another ear. He is not bulky like rock nor thin like a swimmer. He is just right. I never thought a beard would go well with a suit, but he pulls it off. It's like his small rebellion against being suit perfect.

At Robinsons Family Corporation. A car door opened and a pair of long legs came out from inside. A man dressed in a custom_tailored black suit was seen walking into the company. And everyone’s attention was focused on him. The man is about 6.85 meters tall, with a strong and imposing figure that exudes a sense of security. His handsome face was sharply defined, radiating a fierce aura from every angle.. his calm and icy gaze was enough to deter anyone from meeting his eyes.

His features were more striking, his presence more commanding than I had anticipated. As Brandon drew nearer, I couldn't help but notice the striking contrast between his presence and mine. Standing at five feet nine, I was accustomed to being the tallest among the Volkov ladies, but Brandon seemed to tower over me at a height that must have been at least six feet five. It was a reassuring thought, knowing that I wouldn't have to worry about wearing heels around him; our heights complemented each other effortlessly.

At sixty-three years old, Victor Moore was a remarkable and illustrious man. At six feet and three inches tall, he was a sight to behold anywhere he went. His well-built, slender figure radiated strength and energy. His well-manicured salt-and-pepper hair gave him an impression of seniority and experience.