"You like my cock, don’t you," Jack murmured in my ear as he fucked me. I braced myself against the wall of the large glassed-in shower. He kept two fingers on my clit, stroking and teasing as he moved inside me. I came quickly. Jack continued to thrust in me, fucking me, still stroking me. I came again, and he swore as his body shuddered.
Feeling lightheaded and too warm after the shower sex, this time I was the one to throw open all the windows.
"I want to make a gingerbread home with you," Jack said as I crawled into bed next to him.
And I wanted to make a gingerbread home with him. More importantly, I wanted to give him one of the warm, loving family-oriented Christmases I remembered as a child with myoma. Jack deserved that, and if I could be the one to put the Frost family back together, I felt like I wouldn't be as depressed that my oma wasn’t here with me this Christmas.
I looked up Jack's parents' address while he slept. I was going to surprise him tomorrow.
* * *
"You're off again?"he asked the next morning.
I was standing in the foyer, trying to leave, but he kept kissing me. "I have to do stuff with the show," I lied. "I'll be back this afternoon."
The drive to Connecticut, where Jack's childhood home was located, wasn't too long. Traffic was light, and the Uber made good time. I gave the driver five stars on my phone as I walked up the neat stone path to the front door. Jack’s parents' house was a large Colonial-style home, the gleaming white wood siding punctuated by large windows with charcoal-grey shutters. A large front porch with columns welcomed me up to the front door.
The doorbell chimed. Maybe they weren’t even there.
The large door eased open.
"You must be Chloe," said an older woman. She had Jack’s intelligent blue eyes, but instead of his silvery-white hair, his mother's hair was a long, rich chestnut. She was tall, though. I could see where Jack had inherited his height.
"Come inside," his mother said. "It's very nice to finally meet you."
"You have a lovely home," I said, walking in.
The house was huge. The entryway was a double-height space with an impressive dark wood staircase up to the second floor. There was a sparkling chandelier punctuating the space. I tried not to drool. This was the house I'd always envisioned raising a family in—elegant, beautiful, and tastefully decorated. My oma's house had been small, well worn, and full of mismatched furniture. It had been well loved and welcoming, though, and was decorated based on the holiday. Oma had always gone all out for Christmas.
The Frost house, however beautiful, was bare of any personal welcoming touches. There were no Christmas decorations; there weren't even a lot of knickknacks. There was nothing personal except for one small family portrait of the two parents and six young children.
I heard heavy footsteps on the polished hardwood floors.
"And who do we have here?" a man said. I assumed it was Jack's father.
He was even taller than his wife, with the same platinum, almost silvery, blond hair like Jack, the same broad shoulders, and a strong jaw. If this was what Jack would look like when he was older, I had no complaints.
"This is Chloe," Jack's mother said.
"Hi!" I said. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Frost."
"Doctor," he corrected. "Both my wife and I are doctors. I am a doctor of medicine, and she has two doctorates, one in neuroscience and one in microbiology."
"I am one of the leading researchers of brain cancer in the world," Jack's mother said. "And my husband, Dr. Frost, is an internationally renowned neurosurgeon specializing in brain and spinal surgery."
"Wow," I said, "you are very accomplished."
"He has several patents," Jack's mother told me.
"Dr. Frost sells herself short," Jack’s father said. "Diane also has several patents on cancer drugs."
"That's very impressive," I said, not sure what else to say when someone was bragging. "Your son is also impressive."
"Yes. He attended Harvard, and he went to Stanford for an MBA," Jack's father said.
"Where did you go to college?" Diane asked.
"I took a few culinary classes at the local technical institute," I told them, "but I never finished."
