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and back. Lana’s hands coasted up his back, and he shuddered as quietly as he could. With another deliberate caress, her fingers moved across the expanse of his upper back to his right shoulder where he’d gotten an elaborate tattoo of a few of the bones and muscles in that area of his body: a transparent sketch of the deltoid and supraspinatus muscles with the scapula, upper part of the humerus, and a rear view of the clavicle showing through.
    From behind, Lana cupped his neck and lowered her chin to the curve. “It’s really easy to get you out of your clothes, Wes…”
    The corner of his mouth ticked up a notch. “You don’t even know.”
    “Why is this one your favorite?”
    He shifted to face her, revealing that the tattoo was mirrored in the front, too. “When you’re a surfer, what gets you out to that wave and up on your board is all upper body. The strength of it. It’s your arms and your core. I won’t always look like this, so for now, it reminds me of how strong and powerful I am.” Wes pulled his shirt back down.
    “These tattoos are the most you’ve ever committed to anything in your life?”
    “No. Surfing’s my wife,” he joked. “And I’m hopelessly devoted, Miss Lana. Do you have any?”
    “Wives?” Lana teased. “No, but I do have a tattoo. Just one.” Her cheeks flushed as she brought her shoulders up slowly, and Wes’ curiosity raged when he gave her a quick once-over. It wasn’t readily visible, so with near absolute certainty, he knew it was below the waist.
    “Where?”
    Lana didn’t speak, only dropped her stare down to her skirt.
    “Where?” he repeated, eyes widening. He set his burrito down, unsure of if he had placed it on the paper plate or the sidewalk. Fuck it; he didn’t care. Lana’s eyes were still focused on her lap. “Like actually on it?”
    “Below my bellybutton and to the right,” she said, touching the spot, “And it’s really stupid, but I was sixteen…it’s my school’s mascot…a wolverine.”
    It could’ve been a toilet. Wes just wanted to see it. Tattoos fascinated him, but he had been imagining the covered parts of her body for at least a day now. A really, really long day.
    “Where’d you go to high school?” Wes asked, disappointed in himself for diverting his own thoughts, but it was for the sake of his throbbing dick. He’d survive though; no one had ever died of an erection.
    Thank God (he hoped).
    Lana peeled her burrito open and plucked out a chunk of meat and cheese. “Went to public school for a year then I got accepted to Mooreland Ratford, it’s a college prep school…and home of the Wolverines ,” she said.
    “L.A. native?”
    “I was born here, but my parents are from Upstate…” She trailed off when Wes reached over and flicked a tiny bit of food away from her lips. God, they were soft. He had been unable to break his stare away from them as she talked. “Thank you…Upstate New York, as I was saying. I grew up here in Westchester, and now I live in Marina Del Rey with three old friends. Those guys I was playing pool with.” Lana paused to take a sip from her water bottle. “You know, the ones you were serially killing with your glances. So, how many other tattooed blondies did your mother raise? Is there a third one somewhere?”
    “Nope. Just me and Abel. We grew up on the North Shore of Oahu and we moved to L.A. permanently after we both got some really good surfing sponsorships, but we lived in Bali for a while a few years ago.”
    “You surf together, I’m guessing you live together…you guys do everything together?” she said with a hint of a suggestive tone, pulling her gaze toward him slowly.
    “He is my hetero life partner, but not everything, perv. I don’t even like to be in the house when he’s doing that.” Wes bumped her with his shoulder. “I just killed your twins in a threesome porno fantasy, huh?”
    Lana giggled with just barely a flush of color in her cheeks. “Completely. That