Page 7 of Three Not-So-Little Words (The Lawson’s #3)

seven

I’m a Fucking Delight

Ronnie

“ R onnie,” Michelle says. “Why the hell are we in a country bar?”

“Because it’s the only thing around that isn’t our parents’ bar or a club. Would you rather go to The Dells?”

I already know the answer to that. While I may not mind a dance club every once in a while, my siblings? Not so much. They’re not nearly as much fun as I am.

Let’s face it–I’m a fucking delight.

No one seems particularly excited to be out on the town, but I’m hoping I can change that.

“Let’s get this party started!” I announce while pulling a bunch of goodies out of a large bag.

I hand each of them a pink cowboy hat, a light up penis necklace, and a giant dick-shaped lollipop.

Michelle holds up the sucker. “What are we supposed to do with this?”

Leah answers, “Well, you suck it. I know it’s been a while, Michelle, but damn.”

Leah may not have been born a Lawson, but she fits in perfectly with us.

I add, “I think we figured out why Michelle is still single.”

That earns me an eye roll.

I hand a bright pink sash that reads brIDE for her to put on.

She says, “Wow, Ronnie, you went all out.”

“We have to celebrate your last day of freedom.”

She sighs. “You’re awfully dramatic. You do realize you’re not the one getting married, right?”

“Maybe not. But if you won’t let me hire a male stripper, we sure as shit can have a bunch of penis-shaped items.” I stand up and add. “First round of drinks is on me.”

Heading to the bar, I order five very large, very fruity drinks.

While waiting, I look over at a guy sitting by himself at the other end of the bar.

We lock eyes for a moment before looking away.

I saw enough, though. Holy shit, he’s hot.

Hot by Veronica Lawson standards. And that’s saying something. That’s the gold standard of hot.

I’ve been with a decent amount of guys in my time. I’m not going to divulge how many because I don’t remember all of them. I wouldn’t say that I have a type since I find lots of types attractive.

But I love a man who has some substance to him. One who is able to toss me around and show me a good time. I’ve got some curves, and I appreciate a man who can navigate them without a fucking GPS.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a few glimpses of him. He doesn’t appear to be super tall, but he’s sitting down, so it’s hard to tell. He wears a black t-shirt that perfectly hugs his large chest and thick biceps. Tattoos snake from under the black material all the way down his arms.

He has a short, almost buzzed haircut, and his hair is a dirty blonde. His features are soft aside from his sharp jawline and piercing light blue eyes.

I turn my attention back to the bartender who is almost done with our drinks.

I feel the man’s eyes on me. Usually, I would have no problem going over to him and striking up a conversation, but I made a big deal out of this bachelorette party.

I can’t just bail–nor would I want to. No matter how hot this guy may be.

But I can still give him a little bit of a show. Resting my elbows on the bar, I lean forward. I know my low-cut top will show off the girls pretty well. I push my long hair behind my shoulder to give an even better angle.

When I was a teenager, I went from thin as a board to an ample chest and ass. With those came a little extra fluff. But I embrace every one of my curves. If I’m too much, they can go find less.

Jo walks to the other side of me.

“Need some help?” She asks.

I’m so caught off-guard that I don’t even process what she just said.

“Huh?”

“Do you need help carrying all the drinks?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.”

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you being weird?”

Something that Jo and I have in common is that we have no filter. Both of us say what we are thinking. But where my approach is more comparable to the tip of a spear, Jo is more like a blunt ax. She has no finesse.

Which is exactly why it takes her a hot second to pick up on the signals I’m trying to give her.

When she finally figures it out, she leans in close. “Who’s the hottie?” I’m almost positive she says it loud enough for him to hear.

No finesse at all.

Thankfully, at this moment, the bartender sets the finished drinks in front of us. I set more than enough cash on the bar, grab three drinks, and let Jo grab the other two.

As we walk back to the table, I sway my hips enough to make sure I give the hottie a little show.

We get to the table and set the drinks down.

Liz’s eyes go wide. “Those are huge!”

Joking, I reply, “Thanks, Liz, but my eyes are up here.”

She sighs. “I meant the drinks.”

“Hey, you said only two drinks. I’m going to make sure the two are worth it.”

We all sip on the fruity beverages for a moment before Jo says, “I think Ronnie should go find the sexy guy who was at the bar.”

“Really?” I ask, glaring at her.

“What sexy guy?” Leah asks.

I sigh. “There was this hot tattooed guy at the bar.”

They all turn around to look.

I snap my fingers to get their attention. “Don’t make it obvious, you dorks!”

They turn back to face me.

Leah asks, “What’s his name?”

“No idea,” I say between sips. “We just eye fucked each other for a minute before little Miss Cock Block here showed up.”

Liz asks, “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“As much as I love you trying to pimp me out, we came here to have a bachelorette party. You’re not getting out of it that easily.”

She smiles, “Hey, I’m just concerned about your vagina the same way you were concerned about mine.”

“Nice try,” I quip.

I fully intend on going back to continue flirting with that guy. I know that my sisters will call it a night pretty early, and I can go make my move. The only one who may not bail is Jo. But knowing her, she will wind up at a nightclub once she gets out of here. That’s more her scene.

As if reading my mind, Jo says, “I’ll bet you ten bucks that Ronnie will end up in bed with that guy by the end of the night.”

“Would I love to take a mustache ride on that?” I ask. “Yes.”

Michelle interrupts, “He doesn’t have a mustache.”

All of us turn to look at her, and I say, “Let me rephrase. I’d love to sit on his face.”

“Oh.” She nods.

I continue, “But my main focus tonight is you all–especially Liz.”

Liz holds up her glass to toast. “Cheers to that. Plus, knowing Ronnie, she probably already got laid within the last 24 hours.”

I respond with, “I did get laid before I flew home, but it was highly disappointing.”

Leah takes a long swig through her straw before saying, “Oooh, sounds like there’s a good story there. Spill it.”

“It’s not that great of a story. I met a smokin’ hot guy at a local bar and took him back to my hotel.

He was fun to look at, but he had no idea how to go down on me.

Even with direction, he couldn’t find my clit to save his life.

Then, when I tried to salvage it during sex, he turned out to be a two-pump-Chuck.

The whole thing was extremely disappointing. ”

“Damn,” Liz says.

I agree. “Yes. It was awful. I made it known I didn’t have a good time, but one look at my ass afterward had him ready for round two.”

Jo raises her eyebrows. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Have you seen your ass?”

I laugh. “I’m not rewarding bad behavior.”

Michelle’s face scrunches up. “You make it seem like you’re using sex as a punishment.”

“Uhm, I would never. I fucking love sex. Denying someone would be a punishment for me too.”

“But did you really tell him you didn’t like it?”

“I mean I think I made it known. He’s lucky I didn’t pull out my vibrator and use it in front of him.”

Liz laughs. “We all know Ronnie loves her big box of fake dicks.”

“Damn straight.” I nod. “I have to have the competition on deck.”

“Or on dick. ” Jo laughs at her own joke.

Michelle looks even more confused than before. “What if you’re with a virgin who doesn’t know what he’s doing? Do you scold him? Or do you just fake it?”

“Wait a second,” I say, holding up my hand. “You’re telling me you fake orgasms?”

She blankly stares at me. “Not all the time, but I have in the past.”

“Good lord,” I sigh. “I think we just figured out why you’re wound so tight.”

“I am not wound tight,” she argues.

I decide not to argue with her about that point. Instead, I pivot. “And yes, I have been with virgins before. I actually like virgins. They take direction well and are eager beavers.”

Liz jumps in, “Ronnie, I think you’re the one with an eager beaver.”

Well, she’s not wrong.

“My point is that when I’m with a guy, I’m not going to pretend that I like something.

Let’s say he’s going down on me, doing something that is never going to get me off.

If I fake an orgasm, he’s going to think that doing that thing is the way to do that every time.

At that point, it isn’t his fault because he thinks he’s doing something that I love.

Faking orgasms only leads to more faked orgasms.”

Leah taps her finger on her chin. “I think I got a fortune cookie one time that said that.”

We all talk and laugh, and I realize as much as I miss this town while I’m gone, I miss my family more. We have such a great dynamic, I feel bad for being away for so long.

We finish our drinks, and a waitress comes to get our order for more–much to my dismay since I wanted to go back to the bar. I’ll have to find another way to get the hottie’s attention.

When Liz jokingly asks if anyone is going to ride the mechanical bull, I know exactly how to make that happen.