Tim Henson Tattoos Novels & Stories

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?"

“You got another tattoo??” Em didn’t like the way he said it. Quinn was covered in tattoos. He had a huge wolf on his shoulder, several arrows and symbols all over his arms and chest and neck. He had a huge tattoo on his back that reminded her of their town. It was a lake and a mountain surrounded by trees. She thought it was beautiful, even though she had never seen it up close.

I was so speechless, I just jumped on him and he winced, the tattoo was still hurting a bit. My fingers traced another ink one on his shoulder, he got this one after his dad died, in memory of him. "Do you always do this when I'm asleep" Bryne's husky voice jolts me back and I quickly remove my hand from his chest. He frowns and sits up, resting his back on the headboard. He yawns and stretches. I gulp, watching his thick muscle extends and flexes. "Come here" I nod and crawl to his arms obediently. He draws circles on my back and hums an inaudible tune.

The sleeve of his T-shirt lifted, revealing a brightly colored tattoo on his biceps. “When’d you get that?” She pointed at the tat. He glanced down. “Last year.” “What is it?” “One of the four horseman of the apocalypse.” “Can I see it?” “Sure.” Colt rolled his sleeve to the top of his shoulder. “Whoa. That’s gorgeous. India did that?” “Yeah. She’s good, ain’t she?” Chassie squinted at the flames that swirled around the horse’s hooves. “Yep, although it don’t seem like something you’d pick, cuz.”

“Leni, you sure you want a tattoo that size on your forearm? It’s pretty big.” “I’m sorry, you’re questioning the size of ANYONE’S tattoos?” I growl. “Okay, okay!” He holds his hands up in surrender. “You’re in excellent hands. Cason, mindlink me when you get a minute.” “Sure thing, Alpha. I’ll look at my schedule.” Cason says, but he doesn’t look up. He is already drawing on my arm. His face is full of concentration. Three hours later, I admire the stunning tattoo. Justice is already healing it. It looks like when a dragon sheds its scales.

My second favourite is his sleeve tattoo, it is a tribute to his sisters. I love how all his tattoos have meaning, unlike mine. I have two tattoos, the first one I ever got was a matching tattoo with Talitha. We found her Dad's gun and decided to explore with it, we had seen him work a few times so we gave it a go. I was the first to tattoo half a heart on her wrist with "spice" engraved in tiny cursive writing.

Katherine pov For me, the sexiest spot a tattoo can be found is on a man’s rib and of course his fingers. I’ve heard a number of time how painful getting one on those spots can be, maybe that’s why I find it sexy. But is that why I can’t tear my eyes off this hot dude across this counter as well?

“is just for fun.” Heat climbed up my neck. “And what’s the fun one supposed to mean?” “You’d have to find out for yourself.” His voice dipped low again, and I swore my heart skipped. One of his friends Ryan grin leaned in then, resting an elbow on the table. “You’re not the only one with ink worth showing off,” he said, tugging up his own sleeve. The tattoo was intricate, swirling with roses and blades, like beauty tangled with danger. The other two joined in, each showing me their designs a phoenix across one’s back that peeked over his collar, a serpent winding down another’s arm in precise, dangerous curves.

His tattoos were a means of covering up the scars from his past which were lingered due to the various bullet holes that had filled his chest and arm as a result of his survival of an attempt on his life a few years prior to the time The Peterson's had arrived at Fallon Creek. He eventually got tired of people seeing them and feeling sorry for him and covered them via black ink and creative designs in a bid to move passed it, at least when it came to people talking about what happened to him. The rebellious lad, had more or less been referred to as "Rick" more often than not when people spoke to or about him, despite his mother having named him Alarick Michael Channon.

I know one person who has the same tattoo at the exact place as hers. Leonardo.