San Judas Tattoo On Arm Novels & Stories

And that did the job, he snatched away the fake ID from me and walked away angrily. I noticed the tattooed man staring at me now while sipping his drink slowly, fuck! He’s so hot. He looked so manly in a suit which suggests that he is either a businessman or a body guard to some rich men. But on a second thought, body guards don’t wear such expensive accessories all over him. I can recognize his ring form here.

I don't want this, he tried to tell himself, but the weight of their attention was a drug he was already craving. A jagged scar ran down Gideon’s ribs, disappearing into the waistband of his discarded gear. A massive tattoo of a serpent coiled around his right arm, its fangs bared at the shoulder. On his back, the ink was a sprawling map of the Sopttyi District—the streets he’d bled for, the territory he’d claimed. Gideon began to strip Kan, his movements slow and deliberate. He pulled Kan’s shirt over his head, revealing a chest that looked carved from marble. Timothy sat up, sliding closer, his eyes catching the glint of metal against Kan’s dark skin.

Scar kissed her neck softly as she traced every line of the ink as if she was re-inking them herself. A large skull was surrounded by an array of roses. A Christian cross in the back, behind the skull, stuck out to Lani because of the dove perched on it so innocently. Scar's tattoos were a mixture of dark and light, they described him perfectly. The same happened on his arms, one was decorated with the ideas of Satan, the other those of holy angels.

The assistant drove Jasper home and passed by the tattoo studio. "Alright. You are not allowed to tell anyone." Jasper got out of the car and twisted the ring on his finger gloomily. "Young Master, do you really want to get a tattoo? It hurts to have a tattoo around the finger." The assistant tried to remind him. "Enough with the nonsense." Jasper warned him and gently took off the ring. "On the position of the ring, tattoo these words, ‘SP is my love’." Jasper was scared. He was afraid that he would wake up one day and really forget Summer.

Poor Lu, He couldn't still get to the point that one of his relatives is working and spying on him. Even when it was all clear, he couldn't still see what the problem was. Jordan had shown him the clear picture of the person tattoo, it's the drawing of two doves, glued together. It gives him memories of the day he had his own, the same dove tattoo.

“What’s this tattoo for?” Jase shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Originally, it was a punishment when I was sixteen as a reminder that I was fifth in the crew. Now it signifies my team, the five men of Chaos. I think I might have Lachlan alter it to make it a six so that you’re included in that number,” Jase says thoughtfully. “You can’t add to it with every new member of the family, silly man,” I say merrily. He grabs my hand from his face and kisses my knuckles. “Sure I can. I have my personal tattoo artist, after all.” He smirks, looking over my shoulder at me.

His entire right arm is covered in tattoos, the artwork dense and dark and swirling all the way up to his shoulder. His arms and abs and chest are all clearly defined, but he’s not so muscular that he’s bulky or big. His skin is golden and smooth, all soft against hard muscle, and his waist is impossibly slender compared to his broad shoulders. His shorts are riding perilously low, slipping down even further as he raises up his arms again to adjust his ponytail, tightening it. Addison has forgotten how to speak. She lets her eyes roam lower. Just for a moment. And that’s when she sees it—a large tattoo on Javan’s right thigh, the bottom edge of it just barely peeking out from beneath his swi

Once again, my question is greeted with silence. I stare at him and the silence stretches on. Torture isn’t my go to method. And it’s usually Lucas who deals with that part. I study his exposed arms and chest. Ted really just stripped the man to his waist. Did he expect me to whip him into answering my questions? My eyes settle on a small tattoo on his right shoulder. It’s an insignia of a bird with its wings spread. One that I’ve seen before. My eyes narrow, “What does the Order of Eternity mean to you?” That gets a reaction.

It was so small and nearly blended with his skin that I hadn’t noticed it before. “It’s an axe,” Kudaisi said, as if sensing my thoughts. Looking at it now the tattoo looked like an axe—an axe with a small handle. “The only reason why Busari helped me was because I am from the lost lineage of Sango the god of thunder, and Sango was his Protégé. He taught him magic.”

The building stood weathered and forgotten, metal doors rusted at the edges, a place where no one would hear you scream. An unsettling chill crept up my spine. I exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel. Then, I saw him. Lucas. He stood beside a sleek black SUV, arms folded across his chest. His mirrored sunglasses reflected the setting sun, making it impossible to read his expression. The crisp white shirt he wore had his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing something I’d never seen before. A tattoo. Black ink stretched along his arm in bold, intricate patterns—sharp edges and hidden meaning.