Jill Devlin needs a break. The acerbic and gorgeous attorney has been living for her job for eight years, hoping for a career changing promotion. Finally, after a particularly hectic workweek, Jill accepts her best friend’s invitation to spend the weekend at a Vermont artist’s commune. The weekend turns into Jill’s awakening; she experiences cerebral and sexual pleasures that she never thought possible, thanks to an artist name Jade.
Upon returning to reality with a new outlook on life, Jill meets a man who’s perfect for her as she traverses her new path. Chris is a single father and law student who has come to work for Jill as an intern. He’s a stark contrast from the men Jill as had in the past.
Sexy and rugged, Chris has an incredibly sweet nature that Jill cannot resist. After getting very disappointing news about her career, Jill finally learns that, in life, you can’t control everything—so you might as well enjoy the ride.
“He said that he didn’t give me a plus one because I never have a man in my life.” Jill cradled the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she retrieved a bottle of tequila from her freezer.
“Uh-what about your little friend that you keep in your side-table drawer? He’s a man isn’t he? I mean, I guess it’s an ‘it’,” her best friend, Lilly, answered.
“Ha-ha. You’re one to talk.”
Jill had spent the last hour filling Lilly in on the unceremonious wedding invite. Lilly was an artist who had recently tired of the New York art scene and decided to set up shop at a commune in Vermont.
“But hey—he’s kinda got a point. I mean, when’s the last time you’ve sat on someone’s face? I mean… really got up on there and just grinded until you came?”
Jill’s mouth dropped open. “Come on! I’ve had some fun in the past few months.”
Jill could sense Lilly not believing her on the other end.
“Okay, who’ve you fucked since I left? Answer fast before you have a chance to lie!”
“Uh...” Jill looked around her kitchen for some inspiration a la The Usual Suspects.
“I thought so. Listen—why don’t you come visit me this weekend? Sort of to kick-start your libido? We’ve got some very cool people up here, and some very cool things to take to—uh—enhance the experience.”
“I don’t have time to bang a hippie at a commune. I’ve got frivolous lawsuits to deal with.” Jill dumped the last of her tequila into her blender.
“Listen to yourself! You’re thirty-one, but you sound like a seventy-five year-old! Your body isn’t gonna be that rockin’ forever. Don’t you want to enjoy it while it lasts? And for your information, we are an intentional community of artists and artisans, not hippies.”
“I don’t know…”
“Last chance or I never invite you again.”
Jill looked at her blender for an answer. “Ugh-fine! Text me the address, you damn, dirty hippie.”
“Hehehe… I knew I could get ya.”
Jill shook her head as she hung up. Lilly was right—she was turning into an old maid right before her very own eyes. Lilly was always Jill’s wingman, and the last time a guy had really blown Jill’s mind, it was because Lilly had introduced them.
His name was Alfi, and he’d been a sculptor from Copenhagen. They’d met at one of Lilly’s exhibits when she was showing in a small Brooklyn gallery. Lilly had made plaster molds of about twenty different model’s breasts, and placed them at random around the small space. It was a decidedly creepy exhibit but the artists that were milling around, eating cubed cheese and puffing on clove cigarettes, seemed to think it was brilliant.
Alfi towered over the rest of the artists at around six foot five, and had impossibly messy dirty blond hair that constantly fell into his electric blue eyes. Lilly had pulled him over from the modest spread placed on an end-table in front of a particularly large pair of breasts and placed him squarely in front of Jill.
“Alfi, this is my beautiful, brilliant friend, Jill. The one I was telling you about.”
“Ah! Yes—the uh—the lawyer, yes? Lilly has told me wonderful things.”
Alfi smiled, revealing a row of perfect teeth that gleamed against his golden skin. Jill had been drinking heavily to numb the pretentious chatter that floated throughout the small Brooklyn art space, and her confidence was sky-high. She pulled her shoulders back and stuck her two ample breasts directly at Alfi.
“Well I haven’t heard a thing about you.” Jill offered her hand to Alfi, who took it in his surprisingly rough paw.
“Why don’t we sit and discuss all the things about me you’ve missed?” Alfi smiled sheepishly down at Jill and led her to a small couch next to a pair of breasts Jill recognized as Lilly’s.
Jill couldn’t remember much of the conversation between her and Alfi before he started ferociously devouring her on that musty, velvet couch. Alfi was slow moving at first. His hulking, muscular frame gently moved closer to Jill as his gravelly, deep voice whispered things she couldn’t understand into her ear. She just remembered the deeper she breathed in his oak-wood scent, the wetter she got. She felt like she was about to explode when he finally brought his face down toward her. His tongue opened her plump, merlot-shaded lips and explored her mouth as she let out tiny moans of pleasure.
Alfi pulled Jill into him easily, using his one huge hand to expertly maneuver her ass so she was straddling him, while using the other to gently guide her head toward his neck. “We should go to my flat,” Alfi whispered roughly. “It’s a block away.”