The Sons of Johnny Hastings Box Set

by Patty Devlin

  “Abel, do we really have to do this?”

  “Go now or we’re through.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded again. “I expect you to treat me respectfully, not try to manipulate me into actin’ in one way or another.”

  It looked like there was no way out. But there was a bright side: Abel’s previous spanking had made her middle go all tingly and her private places vibrate. That was all pretty pleasant, in spite of the pain. Still, her sigh was dramatic. “Over to the stack of crates, you said?”

  “Yes. Get movin’.”

  She did, but she purposely forgot to raise her skirt. Maybe he’d relent on that.

  He didn’t. “Skirt up.”

  Face heating, Sunny lifted the back of her skirt, exposing her pantalettes. “This is really embarrassing,” she muttered.

  “Embarrassin’ enough to prevent you from doing it again, I hope.”

  Sunny felt him approach, followed by a warm breeze on her behind as he opened her pantalettes from the back, exposing her buttocks to the world—or at least to him, which was bad enough. “Abel! You can’t do that again!”

  “I just did.”

  “But-but-but-”

  “Hush. Do you want someone to come in and see you like this?”

  “No.” The humiliation would be too extreme, being caught in a shed with her drawers open.

  “Put your forehead on that crate and keep those skirts up.”

  Sunny leaned forward and did as she was told, a position that left her bent over somewhat. Her bottom was extremely vulnerable. “Is this going to hurt?” she asked, plaintively.

  “Yes.” That was all he said before he snapped the folded belt against her rump.

  Sunny squeaked, but it was more out of surprise than pain. Maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad after all. At least, that’s what she thought before the testing spanks were over and the real ones began. Oh, my, but she found out the difference lickety-split. At first, there was a sting as the belt hit her bottom, but that sting soon turned to fire, and the fire turned molten. Sunny had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out with each new stripe.

  “Abel,” she said, her voice rising as he whacked her yet again. “Please stop. I won’t try to make you jealous again. I promise.”

  “You tried to manipulate me. That’s worse!”

  “Ow! My…sitting parts…are-are going to fall off! Stop, please, please, please.”

  “No more manipulatin’ me?”

  “No,” she said on a sob. “No, I won’t. I won’t, I promise. Ouchy, ouch, ouch!”

  The spanking stopped, and Sunny heard, rather than saw, Abel putting his belt back in place. “You can turn around now, close your drawers, and let your skirts fall.”

  She sniffled as she did what he told her to do. “Am I forgiven?”

  “Yes. Come here.”

  It was only a few steps, but each one was more welcome than the other as she hurried into his arms.

  “Are you sure you don’t want Steinbocker, Sunny? That’s really the issue.”

  “I’m sure. I want you.”

  He growled and turned her face up, his callused hand on her jaw, putting his lips to hers forcefully. Surprised, Sunny opened her mouth to gasp, but he stole her breath away with his tongue, tasting her, teasing her own tongue to come out and play. Cautiously, she tried this new sensation and found that she liked it quite well. Her middle got all tight and heavy. Wetness moistened her drawers, and it didn’t feel like sweat. Abel kissed her and kissed her, until she felt like she didn’t know where her lips ended and his began. Her face itched where his beard touched it, but it was sensual and welcome, and soon his hands began to roam.

  Abel explored her arms, her shoulders, cupped her face in his two big hands and teased her mouth more. His touch slid over her modestly covered collarbones and down to her breasts. Sunny’s nipples tightened and strained against her clothing. She didn’t know quite what to expect, but as his palms slid over the tips of her breasts and moved to cup the two orbs, she felt the most exquisite hurt low in her belly. It wasn’t pain but longing for more from him.

  She reached up and undid several buttons on her dress, popping one off in the process. It bounced into the shadows with a tick. Abel groaned into her mouth, soon moving his lips from hers to glide down the length of her throat. His tongue teased the depression at the base of her throat, and he licked her exposed collar bones. Sunny was breathing hard, hanging onto his thick arms for dear life. Was this lust? The carnal longing that the preacher warned against? Was she a fallen woman now? If so, she didn’t care. She wanted to know where this newfound urgency could take them.

  Abel slid his hand into the front of her dress and cupped her breast. She wished she didn’t have a chemisette to prevent the feel of his rough palm on her soft skin. But his fingers plying her nipple through the fabric would be enough for the moment, and yet not enough. She groaned as he teased and plucked that sensitive flesh. Those ribbons in her belly twisted tighter and tighter.

  “Oh, God, Abel,” she groaned.

  “Sunny…” he whispered in her ear as he bit her lobe while fondling her nipple relentlessly.

  “I must be ill,” she said, her voice strained. “My tummy is all…funny.”

  “Let go,” he said, his voice near a growl in her ear. “Don’t fight it.”

  “I don’t know what to do!”

  Abel squirmed his hand inside her chemisette and half-freed her breast, exposing her nipple to the air and then to his lips.

  “Oh!”

  He laved her nipple and gave it tiny bites while he kneaded the surrounding flesh gently but firmly. Once again, he reminded her to let things go.

  This time, she had no choice. The feelings ran away from her and something magical happened. Her whole body shuddered and pure pleasure shot from her nipple to that place between her legs, that place she wanted to share with a lover—a lover named Abel Armstrong.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh!”

  “Shhh,” he soothed, kissing her breast tenderly and moving those kisses up to her mouth once again as he tucked her back into her clothing. The kisses were deep and gentler than those that had come before.

  “My God, Abel, what was that? I feel so lethargic now, boneless. Hold me tightly or I might swoon.”

  He chuckled but pulled her into his arms. To her surprise, she could feel hardness below his belly. His manhood was straining at his trouser buttons. Was he feeling what she felt before? Was he about to explode with passion?

  “Abel,” she said softly, rubbing her belly against that hard mound. “Are you all squirmy inside, too?”

  He withdrew his hips a bit. “Somethin’ like that. But it doesn’t matter.”

  “But Abel-”

  “Don’t think on it. You must get back to the picnic.”

  “Let them catch us here, Abel. Let’s tell everyone that we want to be together.”

  “It’s temptin’,” he said, after a pause.

  “Mother won’t really send me away.”

  “She might, out of spite if nothin’ else.”

  Sunny silently agreed that it was a possibility. “I won’t go.”

  “We need to talk this over more, but first, you need to get back to the social.”

  “I don’t want to talk! I want to do something!”

  “Darlin’, we have to be smart.”

  “Oh, Abel, don’t you feel the way I do? I love you!”

  He pulled her into his arms for a deep kiss once again. “I love you, too, Sunny,” he whispered.

  “Then why?”

  “I don’t want your reputation to be ruined. I want you to come to me knowin’ that we achieved our goals without sullyin’ what we have.”

  “That’s old-fashioned nonsense,” she said, her voice holding a pout she’d have liked to hide.

  “I’m an old-fashioned man. Now, get yourself back to the social. I’ll think of something. Maybe I’ll talk to the pastor. He might have a solution.”


  “Oh, poo.”

  He gave her a sharp smack on the rump. “Out you go, little girl. Back to your mama.”

  “If I don’t go, will you spank me?”

  “Sunny,” he growled.

  “Alright, alright. I’m going.”

  They both heard Sunny’s name being called from outside and their eyes locked. It sounded like Sunny’s mother. “Uh-oh,” Sunny whispered, quickly doing up the last buttons at the top of her dress.

  “Tell her you got lost.”

  “In the churchyard? Wait. I know.” She scrounged around until she found her missing button. “Aha! Don’t worry. I know what to do.”

  “Sunny…”

  She didn’t pause, but strolled out of the shed as though it was the most natural thing to do.

  “Mother! I’m here!”

  “Where have you been? William has been looking for you.”

  “I was on my way from the outhouse and lost a button on my dress.” She held out her hand. “It rolled into the shed. I found it inside.”

  “How many times have I told you to reinforce your buttons, Sunny? Put it in your reticule and stop dawdling.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  * * *

  Abel had a chat with the pastor that very afternoon. It was hard to pull the garrulous man away from his flock.

  “I’m sorry to take you away from the social, Pastor, but I’m facin’ something of a problem.”

  Pastor Jones pushed his dark hat back on his head, exposing his wrinkles to the sun. “It’s unlike you to ask for help, Abel. What’s wrong?”

  “I…uh…there’s a young lady I’d like to court-”

  “Excellent news,” Jones said, interrupting.

  “There’s a problem with it, however. Her mother won’t give permission.”

  “Her mother? What about her father?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Who is this woman?”

  “This is in strict confidence, isn’t it, Pastor?”

  “Absolutely, Abel. Only between you, me and God.”

  Abel was still worried about spilling the beans, but he decided it was worth it. “She’s Sunny Winslow.”

  The pastor looked a bit taken aback. “My goodness! She’s awfully young, isn’t she?”

  “Well…it just happened. We love each other now, so it’s too late to worry about that.”

  “Love is a tricky thing, Abel. I presume things have been chaste?”

  “Mostly.”

  “Abel…”

  “There’s no danger she’ll produce a bastard, Pastor.”

  Relief flooded the older man’s face. “I’m pleased to hear that.”

  “Yet.”

  “Abel!”

  “Well…as I said, we love each other.”

  “Perhaps I should talk to Mrs. Winslow. You’re a fine man, despite that unfortunate incident with Lorelei Munsterman. That marriage should never have happened. Now that it’s behind you, any mother should be pleased to have you as a son-in-law.”

  “Thank you. Mrs. Winslow has her sights set rather higher. She’s pushin’ Sunny at William Steinbocker.”

  “Oh. Well, I shall not speak ill of him, but I can understand your concern.”

  “What can be done about this? Frankly, I would take her away from Carrollton and start a new life somewhere, but that would entail leavin’ my livelihood and everything I’ve strived to achieve for twenty years. I can start over again, of course; I’ll be a blacksmith no matter where I live. But it’s not practical and might be rough on Sunny for quite a while.”

  “I understand. We wouldn’t want to see you leave Carrollton under a cloud like that.”

  “What do you suggest?” Abel could see others milling about rather too closely for his liking. If they should overhear this conversation, there could be serious repercussions. When he’d first pulled the pastor aside, they’d been alone.

  “Let me speak to Mrs. Winslow. Perhaps I can persuade her to allow you to call. Once she knows you better, I’m sure she’ll change her mind.”

  Abel doubted that very much, and it seemed like a forlorn hope. “I’m concerned about pressing Mrs. Winslow too hard. She might dig in her heels even more.”

  “That is her right. Sunny is her daughter. There’s not much else I can do.”

  “Can you marry us without Mrs. Winslow’s permission?”

  “That would be highly improper and would affect your new life together badly.”

  Abel knew that, but he had to try. “When will you talk to her?”

  “Not here at the social.”

  “No.” Abel offered his hand and they shook. “Thank you, Pastor.”

  “I wish you luck.”

  Abel thought maybe they’d need more than luck in this case.

  * * *

  A few days later, Sunny’s mother stormed into the Taggart home and Sunny rose from the settee. “You awful, awful girl!” Mother raged. “How could you?”

  Sunny gripped her book more tightly, worried that Mother had found out about her rendezvous with Abel at the church social. “How could I what?”

  “You know what! Pastor Jones cornered me at the ladies auxiliary meeting at the church today. He talked some nonsense about Abel Armstrong—what a good man he is and a whole lot of hogwash. He says Abel would suit you and I ought to give it a chance.” Mother stalked over and raised her hand again.

  This time, Sunny warded off a blow by lifting her arm. The slap bounced harmlessly off her wrist. “Stop that, Mother! I am not your tool. I am not meant for William.”

  Mother’s eyes narrowed. “What are you not telling me?”

  “I love Abel.”

  “Pah! What do you know about love? You’re infatuated. I suggest strongly that you turn that infatuation to William Steinbocker.”

  “No!”

  “I’ll have none of this blacksmith business anymore. You’ll accept William, or else.”

  “I won’t!”

  “Do you wish to go to Peoria?”

  Sunny’s world began to crumble. “No, but…”

  Mother held up her hand. “No buts. Do as I say. William will be here at three o’clock. You will cooperate, or you will pack your bags. Those are your two choices.”

  “You are hateful,” Sunny told her mother. “You don’t love me. If you did, you’d never do this to me.”

  Mother’s voice faltered when she said, “It’s in your best interests, Sunny. I’m only trying to protect you.”

  Sunny couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’m leaving!” She ran to their bedroom and slammed the door. It was time to do the unthinkable and ruin her reputation. If that’s what it took to be with the man she loved, well…he’d just have to accept her decision. But if Abel turned her away, she’d have to go to Peoria. She could not marry William, and that was surely where the courtship was leading—or, worse than that, something more devastating, like what happened to Dani’s friend, Amy. She’d rather be exiled than that.

  It took her a few minutes of planning, but, in truth, she’d been thinking of this solution for a while. Instead of walking, Sunny went to the Taggarts’ barn and saddled a horse to save time. Sunny was not a good rider but did well enough to get to town. She made sure all the people she could find knew where she was headed.

  She rode to Abel’s forge, where she knew he’d be working through the daylight hours, and waited in the trees nearby. Soon, the town farrier came to Abel’s shop. Through the shop window, she could see the two men conversing. Quietly, she dismounted and led her horse to the front of the shop and around a corner.

  Timing was critical. She waited, and the farrier left. Sunny’s heart sank a bit, but she continued to wait and hope another person would come by. It was imperative that her mother should come looking for her.

  The hour wore on, and Abel went back to his forge, never knowing she was waiting around the corner. A couple came by in their carriage—Mayor and Mrs. Hornsby—and the shop door tinkled. Abel moved to the shop and gree
ted the pair. It was perfect. Sunny came around the corner and tied her horse up to the post there. Now if only Mother would come; But even if she didn’t, Sunny decided, the Hornsbys would be enough.

  God must have been smiling upon Sunny, she thought, because her mother came up in William’s Brougham just as Sunny was entering the shop. William was driving, a determined look on his face.

  “Abel!” Sunny shouted, running into the shop like a woman on fire. “My horse has thrown a shoe and—” She ran to him, threw her arms around him and gave him a huge kiss. Surprised, he didn’t give her much of a kiss back, but he did put his arms around her. She held him when he would have let her go. Sunny was praying, promising God all kinds of concessions, if only He’d make this work out.

  “Sunny Winslow!” Mrs. Hornsby said sharply. “Well, I never!”

  “Oh, Abel,” Sunny purred loudly. “I nearly got tossed off the horse. Hold me, please.”

  “I might have known,” Mrs. Hornsby said, and Sunny could hear the tone of disgust in her voice. “Breedin’ will tell.”

  Mother walked in, William behind her, and gasped. “Sunny, come away from there.”

  Sunny planted another kiss on Abel’s unsmiling lips but said nothing, continuing to hold onto him as though he was her lifeline.

  “I’m sure this is a misunderstanding,” Mother said, addressing the Hornsbys, but she soon turned to Sunny. “Sunny, my dear, this is most unbecoming. Please let Mr. Armstrong go about his business.”

  It was a lame response, but Sunny had counted on her mother being unable to make good excuses to any witnesses.

  After a few tense seconds, Abel pushed her away, but he didn’t push her far. He took her hand and held her beside him as he spoke to the amazed gathering. “I’m sorry you had to see this, Mr. and Mrs. Hornsby. Mrs. Winslow, you will have to forgive Sunny and I. I’m sure you’d rather we had remained circumspect until you could announce our engagement. But Sunny had a scare.”

  Mother looked from Abel to the Hornsbys and back again. She cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said, her voice shaky. “Yes, I’d have preferred that you two had kept it quiet for a bit longer.”