The Tattooed Man Book Novels & Stories

The pleasant scent of old, crisp book pages was calming and relaxing. I had always loved reading, and that made me wonder why a man like Maximo had a well-maintained library in his home. With his dark tattoos, wild eyes, scars and scruffy ways, he definitely didn’t seem to be the type who would have much interest in spending his leisure time reading old books. And yet, he had a rather fine collection of books with a well-maintained library.

He despised socializing or staying out in public and always sneaked around the shadows like a rat. He enjoyed hunting women as if they were prey, quietly observing with none the wiser. Such excitement only drove him crazier with delight. - Ten minutes later, the door lock clicked audibly, and Zac sneaked into my room, clearly sober. I felt his weight pressing down on the couch as he sat right beside me. He didn't touch me even though I had supposedly passed out. I hid a smile and decided to raise the bet and turned as if bothered, my fingers brushing against his cheek.

Abs stenciled with toned muscles grooving over every inch of his torso. His forearms bulged; tattoos etched over his arms, casting full artwork on both sleeves. He ran his hands through his wet tousled hair as dark strands frayed along his fingertips. “Now that’s a man,” Kaia purred inside of me. Again I averted my gaze, drawing back to the book in my lap, yet unable to concentrate on any of the words in front of me. And yes… indeed he was a man. An incredible specimen in fact. His head turned to me. “Sorry, forgot to grab my clothes. My mind was somewhere else,” he admitted, timidly.

The man probably heard me coming from the moment I left my tent. The water was dark and still around him. The moonlight caught the lines of his shoulders, the broad planes of his chest, the wet gleam of his collarbones above the waterline, the gleaming silver link around his neck, and the wolf pendant resting on his chest. My lips parted at the intricate, swirling black tattoo of a growling wolf on his left pec. My eyes trailed low. Lower. To the stacked packs on his stomach, and lower to the healthy, masculine V that ran from his waist and disappeared into the water. My mouth went dry at the thought that he was naked. Naturally, I started rambling.

” I asked annoyed. ”Sorry, am I disturbing something?” I jumped up and looked at the man standing on the other side of the counter. Thick, dark hair that fell to the side of his head, dark eyes, and the darkest lashes I had ever seen on a man. It was cold outside but he was only wearing a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His entire right arm was covered in tattoos, his muscles were bulging with every move he made and he had broad big shoulders. ”Hi, sorry, no, I'm just...just talking to myself,” I said and laughed nervously. Holy shit, who was this man? His smolder could make anyone swoon, me included.

He also told me where he buried her. “Why are you telling me about this story?” I asked curious more than being afraid of him. “Because you are going to be my twenty-second Daisy.” “But you can’t kill me.” He looked surprised that I read between the lines of his story. “Yes, I can’t kill you. You see my therapist told me to get someone to talk to and I met your grandfather. He—” “What did you feel when you kill them?” “Why?” The man chuckled, “You know what, let me tell you about the story of my tattoo!” He removed his shirt revealing a tattoo of a huge dragon on his arm. “This is Vrtra. He’s the dragon that caused drought to many nations on old—’

She was sitting on the lap of a man sitting on a wide chair, his left hand on her back while the other was creeping up her legs. “Ronnie?” thought Gray. “He must be the Ronald she was asking her brother about.” “Of course, baby,” said the man. He had a tanned skin tone. He was bald with a ducktail beard. And even as he was wearing a black buttoned long sleeve shirt, his glaring tattoos were highly visible on his hands, neck and chest. Maybe if he had taken off his shirt, his body would also be covered in tattoos. And as he was sitting, his huge physique was apparent. Colleen looked like a kid on his lap. He was tall and muscles were almost popping out his tight shirt.

He looked somewhat lost in the middle of my room. “I have a few books and ice cream for you. It’s one of the hottest days of the summer. I thought you could use cooling off,” he said, holding up four books and a bowl filled with ice cream. His gaze moved to my throat, and his brows drew together. He walked past me and put everything down on my nightstand before he shoved his hands into his pockets, looking awkward. My eyes lingered on the fresh tattoo on his forearm. “You are a Made Man now.”

I bit back a scream and closed my eyes, allowing myself to take advantage of the fact that he was blocking the only source of light in the room so he wouldn’t be able to know for sure if I was awake or not. The man squatted in front of him, and I saw the tip of his black boots. They were dusty and rough. His hands were tattooed and veiny. I also noticed the tattoos were not pretty. They didn’t look like fashionable tattoos; rather, these looked like marks and symbols that felt like a warning. I closed my eyes and forced myself to remain still while trying to breathe evenly. Maybe if they thought I was still unconscious, they would reveal information about why I was here.

the tattooed man blabbered. "Drop the act! Those two people have already told us everything you've ordered them to do. What's the point of hiding anything now!?" Claus bellowed. The pentagram tattooed guy frowned. 'Did they capture Conrad and the doctor too? So, the two men who had walked up to me. Were they the ones?' "Traitor! I knew it was a bad idea, keeping you all alive! You should have been dealt with in the first place!" the man with the tattoo cursed.