MALIA DAVIS.
If his eyes didn’t always disarm her, it would be Jack’s smile. When he truly smiled, it showed all over his face. It spread up from his lips to his cheeks all the way through his eyes and she was never prepared for it. It warmed her like the sun on a beautiful day. She wanted to enjoy it the same way as a beautiful day as well. Just bask in it as long as she could because she knew how it felt when it was gone. When she didn’t get to see it in person, but was only left with memories of it. It was worse than a rainy day, because she wasn’t ever sure when the sun would come out again or even if it wanted to.
“I wasn’t sure if you were coming so I had to entertain myself.” Malia smirked looking back up at him. “Although…it was always better with you.” It was an honest admittance that she couldn’t stop from falling out of her mouth. Her mouth usually did get her into trouble. Censoring herself and checking her emotions was something that Malia had always struggled with. It mostly pissed people off or offended them, but not Jack. It was like he understood her in a way she didn’t think anybody ever would again. Before it had only been Tommy, but then Jack came along and made her realize that she wasn’t as complicated as she tended to think she was. Maybe she just needed the right person to come along and understand her again. She laughed softly as he teased her about wounding him. Leaning in close to him again, letting her breath caress his neck, Malia said, “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”
As she moved back into her space, Malia’s eyes couldn’t stop from going to his lips to his eyes to the heart painted on his cheek with the M inside. Her skin warmed as the butterflies increased along with her heartbeat. They were swimming in familiar, murky waters now. This is where Malia’s head told her to start stepping out of the water, but her heart was louder, planting her feet to the ground. This is real. You’re not making it up. This is all real, she heard over and over in her head.
His next words hit her like a strong wind, chilling her and almost knocking her off her feet. His voice had been easy and agreeable, but the look in his eyes. It was a dare and Malia never backed down from a dare. She held his gaze for a few moments before looking around the party for one of the painters. She smiled when she saw one and took a small paint pot that held the matching color to the heart on Jack’s cheek. The painter smiled as he handed over a brush willingly to her, already seeing her next move in her eyes. Turning back to Jack, Malia held the pot and brush up to him. “Would you like to do the honors?” she asked, smiling sensually. “I’ll even let you pick the place.” Malia whispered, stepping closer to him.
♪
To be this bold should have been enough to stir up old fears in Jack. Or perhaps even old impulses. But, by some miracle, these thoughts of doubt never truly form. Instead, Jack is basking in a new light, happy to brew in Malia’s presence and melt into the way she speaks. Slow, warm, and close. He leans in more, eyes glued to her, his hands aching to reach out. Somehow, he refrains, letting whatever fire between them continue to simmer.
The moment swells and Jack seems to be in the thick of it, his flesh burning with anticipation and feelings of want and need that he assumed he would never experience again. And then: Do you want me to kiss it and make it better? Jack releases a breathy laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “You already know the answer to that.” He responds, his voice low, still reserved for her. In truth, it feels as though it’s only them on this beach, despite the noise that envelopes them from all sides. Malia’s dark, almond-shaped eyes are enough to make all of that seemingly irrelevant. A damn cliché, once again, and who would Jack Adler be without them?
A hum sounds from Jack then, feeling another surge of excitement plow through him. He looks to the painter who’s now averted his gaze but has probably taken a secret mental note of what was unfolding. Who wouldn’t? They haven’t chosen the most discreet of places. And yet, Jack can’t find the will to care.
“Hmm..” The singer trails off, retrieving the pot and brush from Malia’s grasp. He takes a single step back, teasingly allowing his eyes to scan over her face and body. “It’s all very tempting.” He says before placing the pot down, moving to dip the brush in, gathering a small amount of neon paint onto the bristles. Jack moves toward Malia again, his free hand reaching out to push down the shoulder of her dress, revealing her skin. The pad of his thumb brushes over the area, the feeling all too familiar. Smooth, warm, glistening. Jack leans in even closer then, proceeding to paint a heart near her collarbone, placing a J right in the middle. “I think that’ll do.”
Silence ensues again as Jack sets down the brush, his eyes never leaving Malia. The tension within his stomach grows more prominent, only touching her once not enough to satisfying the ache that also grows. “I want you.” Jack says sincerely, his voice never reaching above the same hushed-tone from before. “But you knew that.”








