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"My place?" He asks her, smoothing his hands over her hips. "Nobody for miles up there."

"Mmhmm, I'll do that," Mac says softly. "Just give me a moment to get dressed?"

"Go on, then," he says, rolling onto his back to watch her.

There's something dirty and wrong about getting dressed when her back's still splattered with semen but Mac guesses that's the appeal. She tugs on her shorts and gives Jackson a long look.

"Bra or no?"

Stretched out on his back, naked as the day he was born, he rolls one shoulder and smirks. "You think you're gonna need it?"

"All signs point to no," Mac says, laughing warmly. "So I can go without if you want?"

"I think you definitely should," he says, pushing up off the bed and reaching for his own clothes, pulling them on quickly, pushing his hand back through his hair to straighten it.

"Things are starting to get a little tight," she says, frowning at how uncomfortable her shorts are even though her stomach is still more or less flat.

"I guess it's downhill from here isn't it?"

"Dependent on your definition of downhill, darlin," he says, arm snaking around her from behind as he kisses the side of her neck, his hand resting against her belly.

"I don't mind it all that much. I just wish I looked pregnant instead of fat," Mac says, turning in his arms a little to face him.

"Ready to go?"

"You do not look fat," he says, with a roll of his eyes,bending his head to kiss her, fingers tracing along the side of her neck for a moment. "Let's go, darlin'. Before you change your mind."

"I'm not changing my mind," Mac promises, laughing warmly. "I've been insatiable these past few months."

"You know, I hadn't noticed," says Jackson, airily, taking her by the hand to lead her from the hut and out into the warm night air. "I honestly didn't think you could want it more and then you go on and surprise me."

"Hormones?" Mac says sheepishly. "It must definitely be the hormones. And the part where I'm in love with you."

"Both playing their part, I'd imagine," he says, hand drifting down to rest against her ass as they walk. "And those other words that you so like to be called when you're in the thick of it."

"Oh you mean when I like being called your dirty little whore?" Mac asks, beaming at him.

The glee that she says it with makes him smile and he nods.

"I do mean that."

"I am a whore for you, there's no point in denying it." Mac squeezes his hand. "I'm happy to be yours, though."

"If you keep this up, I'll be sorry I don't have that leash to hand," he says, squeezing her fingers, leading her down the familiar path towards her house.

"You have to admit, there's a certain appeal in knowing I don't actually need it to come to heel," Mac replies cheekily.

"You're very well trained," he admits, pausing on the path to bend his head and kiss her. "There is, however, a certain appeal to the idea of punishing you for misbehaving."

"I am naughty," Mac agrees. She loves kissing him and she's happy to waste a few moments on the path to just get her fill of it.

"What kind of mood are you in, Mac?" He asks her, both hands on her ass to keep her pulled in against him. "Naughty or nice?"

"Naughty," MacKenzie says, grinning wickedly. "I've been a bad, bad girl."

"That means that you need to be punished," he says, grinning. "Made to so all those things that humiliate you, right? The ones that you find hard."