Steve Rogers Beard Novels & Stories

“Don’t touch him, Mr. Rogers, sir.” Rogers stopped. He looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “You’re siding with him?” He jerked his chin at Carl. “An American? The guy who might end up betraying you?” Carl snorted. “We’re not friends, Rogers. But even I have standards. I don't randomly betray people. I help them,” he said and pocketed the phone. Rogers’ face twisted. “You think this ends here? You think one video protects you? I have lawyers. I have connections. You will hurt yourself!”

She didn’t buy it, her brown eyes narrowing, but before she could press, a sharp knock echoed from the front door. Stella’s face lit up, and she practically skipped to answer it. I followed, lingering by the staircase as she swung the door open. There stood Roger, exactly as she’d described: tall, his blonde hair tousled like he’d just stepped off a beach, with chocolate-brown eyes that sparkled with charm. He wore a fitted navy shirt and jeans, his easy grin lighting up the entryway. “Hey, Stella,” he said, his voice smooth as honey. “Roger!” Stella beamed, stepping aside. “Come in. This is Anna, my best friend.”

he said, his tone dropping with mockery. This psychopath had friends? Perhaps, other bunch of psychopaths. He suddenly wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer to himself. Urgh! Another time to be dramatic. "Hey Steve!" He shook hands with someone. A gasp escaped my lips as I saw who it was. Steve Robins, a popular and well-sought lawyer who had won a lot of cases. "Hey bro!" Steve greeted. "Is she our wife?" He asked with a smile. "Yeah," Diego answered simply. "This is...."

It's also quite possible that he's all three. Luckily, Roger had been speaking rather loudly. His voice boomed over the music and caused a commotion that brought the attention of several other guests. It only took a few seconds before one of the security guys approached us. He was a tall with a shaved head and muscles that bulged out of his black shirt. He was completely covered in tattoos and looked much more scary than Roger. “Is everything alright over here?” he asked. I opened my mouth to answer him, but Roger interrupted me.

“Steve claims to have found a lead.” Elder Raymond raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Oh? Really?” Noticing his tone, Steve knew the man didn't believe him. He didn't blame him though, because who wouldn't act the same way, knowing that the one who claims to have a lead is the same person who had a huge fight with his son, and almost ruined his face over a year ago. Steve made sure he didn't react in any way, and just remained silent. “What lead does he have?” He inquired and Beta Richard stepped forward.

10' and muscled to the hilt, his shoulders so wide he only just fit through a standard sized door way. Roger worked out a lot and aimed to look imposing and threatening, even when he was just standing around doing nothing. His bla k hair was a little on the long side but easily swept back with some hair gel, as it was now. All the she-wolves walking past him were smiling and batting their lashes at him. He knew he was considered devilishly handsome, with his straight nose, square jaw line and apparently kissable lips, not too thin, not too fat one-she wolf had told him and she'd spent most of her time kissing him, when they'd spent the night together. He also boasted unnaturally long black e

Just her bed, the monitor, and a small desk on the left of her bed. As her eyes began to close, her door clicked opened, and her eyes flashed open. And there he was. Dr. Rogers stood there with a tablet in his hands, typing on it, his lips pulled down in a frown. He was old, but not too old, looking about to be in his fifties, silver hair slicked back to hide the fact that he was balding. He had gray eyes, the color of storm clouds, and had facial hair that wrapped around his jaw. He looked up at her sternly, and she met his gaze steadily.

But it wasn’t time to eat just yet. “Roger?” I asked the owner as I saw him sitting at the back with a ton of bills, and his reading glasses sitting at the very edge of his nose. He was a man in his early fifty’s with salt and pepper hair that he liked to keep long, along with a big beard. He didn’t talk much to his employee’s, and was often strict with management, but he was a pretty decent guy. “Can Julian stay here during my shift today?” Roger frowned as he looked up from the bills, his eyes holding some amount of anger at my question, but since Julian was with me, he didn’t bother scolding me. “He can stay today,” he said in his gruff voice. “Don’t make it a habit, kid.”

“If he ever escapes his fan club.” “Is this the line for Reagan hugs?” a deep voice said from behind her. She turned and grabbed Steve in a bear hug. He returned her hug enthusiastically. She couldn’t help but notice how great those strong drummer arms felt wrapped around her body. Even though the concert had ended two hours before, he still wasn’t wearing a shirt with his low-cut leather pants. “Are you two having a guitarist meeting over here?” Steve asked. “I noticed Dare has erected his invisible barrier of cool to ward off the ass-kissers. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your private party.” “We’re just talking,” Reagan said.

The wolf guy turned to stare at me before saying something incoherent and walking out. Rogers chuckled softly and walked toward me, making me see his face better. He looked no older than twenty-two, cute with this cheesy smile and dimples "Lea, are you okay?" I smiled at him, liking his vibes immediately, and just nodded "never mind these guys, not only are they horny they are also searching for a girl to mark theirs, am Zayn" he extended his hand for a shake and I accepted with a shy grin. I couldn't remember the last time someone was as gentle with me.