Wes Watson Tattoos Novels & Stories

"I want you. I want you inside me." He smirks and takes off his own t-shirt, throwing it aside. He is now completely shirtless, his muscled and toned torso on display. I want to run my tongue over his tats so badly. The Japanese characters on his torso, what do they even mean? I trace the tattoo with my index finger. Mason hisses at the contact.

"I don't have any tattoos. I've never even been in a parlor." The siblings exchanged a confused look. "But you do," Lisa insisted. "Right at the base of your spine. It’s a strange symbol. I saw it when we got you into the pajamas." A feeling of dread drove through me. I didn't have a tattoo when I lived with my stepfather. Was this a mark of my mother’s heritage, or something my wolf, Val, had brought to the surface? Carson stepped closer, his hand reached out to check my temperature.

“You might even find one of your assailants there too. Half of these men on here are from werewolf pacts.” “Really? Any with tattoos?” Scott pointed to a figure in the middle. Raven moved closer to look, large, gray hair, beady little eyes. “That’s Leo Rambert, he has a wolf tattoo with a moon on his wrist. The image of that night flashed in Raven’s mind, hand resting on the ground next to her head, tattoo clear, as he pushed into her deeply, ‘you like that, don’t you baby?’ Raven snatched the photo down, “When do I need to be ready?”

He had to kill Adrian. "You’re such a kind person,” Matteo said. "Hmph!" Adrian was very disgusted by Matteo. He tore open the latter’s shirt, revealing the skin on his chest where there was a wolf tattoo. "What do you have to say now?" Matteo still refused to admit it. "I got this tattoo when I was a child to protect my soul. It has no other meaning." Encountering such a rogue, Adrian was so angry that he could not speak. He did not want to waste time on him either. He beckoned Matteo's coachman. "Is your employer powerful?" he questioned.

“Oh, good Lord. Save it until the honeymoon.” As Blaze gave another pretend retch in the corner, Maverick strode into the room. The packmaster in formal wear looked even more out of place than Jeremy and Wes did. Several of his midnight-black ceremonial tattoos—which covered the majority of his tanned torso, all the way from his wrists to the line of his neck—peeked from beneath his suit coat. Wes chuckled. “And you said I looked like a Hells Angel.” Maverick shot Wes an impatient glare. “I’m only doing this at your wife’s request.”

“First, I need you to sign these. Please read through them carefully and let me know if anything needs to be changed or added.” As she reached across the table, I noticed a small tattoo on her wrist, partially hidden by her leather watch strap. A flaming skill above two crossed pistols - the Warriors logo. As I sat forward to begin reading the documents, I couldn’t help but wonder how deep Kat’s connection to the club actually ran. ——————————— Talon I walked into the garage, nodding at a few of the guys working on bikes. The familiar sounds and smells of grease and metal helped ground me as my mind continued to reel with thoughts of Laura.

“I have to change into my suit.” “You’re dressed fine.” Ashley waves her hand at my shorts and oversized t-shirt. “The more skin, the better.” “Whhaat kind of appointment is it?” I squint at her. “We’re going to see Cason Watts.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “A tattoo?” My jaw drops. *** “Luna, have you thought about your tattoo?” Cason holds a sketch pad. “Anything on the walls out front you like?” “I saw one…” I feel my heart beat faster. “It has a rose and then there’s a dagger sitting on top, but I want the dagger to go through the middle of the rose, like it’s stabbing it.”

Jonathan’s was special, with a lightness, a freshness to it. “I just need to stop for a moment,” Jonathan said. “Catch my breath.” He was clearly exhausted. He’d been searching for her all night, then he shifted to his wolf, and now he was basically carrying her. He stood in front of her, with his back turned, and she noticed the tattooed totem on his back. It stretched up to his shoulders. It wasn’t uncommon for werewolves to have tattoos, most of them did. She traced her finger along the lines of the totem. Jonathan’s tattoo was stunning. His pack obviously had a lot of artistic talent. The tattoo was intricate, with delicate lines. “I’m good now,” he said, turning to face her. He reached

Maya waggled her brow at Jared as he stepped out of the dressing room, looking like a stereotyped bad boy and ticking off all the boxes with his denim jacket which was opened showing off chiseled muscleks and surprisingly a tattoo, though it was an inscription that puzzled her: I want to be your everything except but one thing, Your past. It was very poetic and in all the tats did do Justice to the whole bad boy imagery that was being projected. "Howdy," she taunted, adding a wave and stifling giggle for good measures. He groaned and she chuckled.

Then she took a good look at his tattoos. Her gaze traced the ink that stretched across his chest, dark and patterned against his golden skin. The tattoo sprawled over his left pectoral, a fierce black wolf, its eyes red and dangerous, as if it could leap off his skin and bare its fangs at her. The details were breathtaking, each strand of fur etched with perfection.