James Gandolfini Tattoo Novels & Stories

We get out of the car and start walking on the sidewalk, "I do like her, but I don't want her to know." "Okay," I roll my eyes. "Are you going to get a tattoo with us, General?" Hunter asks, opening the door to 'Zander's Greatness'. My father shakes his head. "Nah. I'll wait for you guys at that bar,” he points, “While you get your little drawings done." Zander is a bald man covered in ink who has done ten of my tattoos. My favorite ones, the ones that mean the most to me. This time, Hunter and I get the date of our departure tattooed just below the tattoo we got last year, which is the same, just a date. Small and simple.

The man held in one hand, a tattoo machine. A tattoo artist? What had a tattoo artist got to do with this? "I know how much Ricardo's betrayal pains you." Gustavo kissed his teeth. "Such a shame, you both would have been the most powerful duo. The Ghost and The Dark Knight." He took a step backward. "What do you say you get his name tatted on your cleavage where everyone can see. Where everyone can see your betrayal and your foolishness!" He scoffed and sat himself down. “You may begin. And don’t make a mistake of stopping until the job is done.”

James pursed his lips even more. "You such a little brat!" James grumbled then walked towards a wardrobe while unbuttoning his shirt. Then he opened the shirt with his back to Delilah. Delilah's eyes widened at the sight of James' athletic back. But what caught her attention was not that but the few scars on it. She was stunned at a phoenix tattoo on one side of his back with two moles forming a straight line. Delilah swallowed a few times, mainly when James turned around and smirked at Delilah with her red cheeks.

Inscribed across his biceps was a black shield bearing the image of an ivory two-headed eagle hovering over five yellow circles that are in the shape of an inverted V. Danica placed her clothes on the footstool at the end of the bed and raised her hand to touch his arm, glancing at Lorenzo for permission. *********** *LORENZO* I held my breath as she traced the outline of my tattoo, her finger skirting across my skin, her light touch echoing through my body, toward my groin, and I suppressed a groan. “Did it hurt?” I grimaced. “I could endure the pain. Are you interested in getting one?”

he said as I continued to space out. “And what does Giovanni do when he wants to let something go?” I asked as on cue, Giovanni appeared at the door frame, “I don’t just let go,” he replied as I frown, “What do you mean?” I asked as he crossed his arms, “Unlike my brother, I have an obsession with tattoos, they tell a story and it’s permanent, so whatever I went through, I embrace it, learn from it, get strength from it, then paint it on my canvas to remember how strong of a person I am, flexibility,” he said before turning his back towards me, lifting his shirt to reveal a spine tattoo on his spine. “That’s deep,” I said as he turned back around, “And you look hot,” he said as I looked at t

An idea formed in my mind and I went with it, plucking items from the shelves and dropping them into my basket. In the checkout line to pay, I noticed a big guy behind me waiting with his lone bottle of water. Well, I really noticed his tattoo. He had a beauty on the in- side of his forearm a perfect rendition of Jimi Hendrix's signature, the big swirl of the J as clear as if Jimi had scrawled it himself. "Nice tat," I said to him, noticing how really huge he was. At least six five, solid muscle, with spiked white-blond hair and a face that exuded confidence this was a guy you did not mess with. "Thank you." His nearly black eyes softened just a bit and he asked, "Are you a fan?"

” He grabbed my hands and led me to the carnival shooting booths handing me the small arrows to arm at the water ball. He goes first, and with five arrows he misses like a toddler losing a game. That motivates me to aim, win and give him the puppy plushie. If I didn't know Machado was a feared Mafia Boss, I'd argue with anyone who told me —-- because right now, he is jumping with excitement like a kid getting a prize. His joy disarms me like a toy gun shooting real bullets. His tattoos peak from his knuckles and arm—- two rings on his fingers, the index and pinkie, probably making his family rank. Skulls and bullets inked on his knuckles.

I could already read the ‘gangster’ and ‘delinquent bastard’ she's called me in her head. She leaned forward as she cut into her steak. “So… how did our well-mannerer Caden end up with a … fine young man as yourself?” I almost laughed. The woman almost called me a fucking bastard. Jeremy smiled. “He looked like something a tattoo gun chewed and spat out. Don't get me wrong I have tattoos but at least I'm not covered in them like some mafia soldiers.” “I know, right?” Gus smirked as he sipped his wine.

Then, curiosity got the better of me, and I followed him inside. “If it isn’t Mr. Moreno Armani, it’s been a while man,” a young man wearing a black apron said shaking Moreno. “How are things,” Moreno said to him and I just stood at the corner feeling uninvited. “Good good, here to get another tattoo done?” he asked Moreno. “Not for me actually,” he said looking at me and I looked back at him confused. “This is my wife Bella you must have heard about her, she’s been bugging me to get a tattoo with my name on her and I can’t say no” he lied through his teeth. “Mrs, Armani,” the man said bringing his hand for a handshake. “I’m Pablo, you look better in person I’ll admit” “Thanks” I replied loo

my eyes landed at his hands, that grabbed the hem of his shirt. Oh.....I'm gonna see a man bare top for the first time. Excited? Yes I am. So damn excited. He also has a tattoo....what tattoo does he have? Is it a colored tattoo or a plain black. Oh....does he have abs? is he fit? he's muscles looks fit but....does he really have abs? oh my.....I've always admired David James Gandy in TV and oh his sun kissed tan abs are so juicy....Wait....Does my mate also have abs like David Gan... "David Gandy? really?"