Johnny Loves Krissy

Kristina Taylor's biological clock just went off. She has endometriosis. Now "who's your baby's daddy" just took on a completely new meaning. A brilliant plan for conception includes her hot best friend Johnny Huston. Taking him to bed won't be a hardship-if she can only get him to play by her rules. After all, she wants to maintain their friendship. Not easy if he ends up being the best sex of her life.

Knock her up? Krissy has to be crazy. Or is she? Johnny has loved her since high school. Her plan might not include life after baby. His does. But how is he going to show her how good they can be together with all her rules-no kissing, no touching, no caressing. He can make love to her, but she's determined not to enjoy it. To hell with that and to hell with her rules. He's determined to show her friendship is the best foundation for a relationship.

But there are always complications...

With Johnny, Krissy is afraid to look to the future. Right now, she can't get enough of the present, and she dreads the thought of losing what she's had with him in the past.

Johnny Loves Krissy

by

Kyann Waters

Chapter One

Johnny Loves Krissy

“I just want to go home, get in bed, and sleep for a week.”

Johnny Huston glanced up as Kristina Taylor dropped her purse on the table. Yeah, he had a similar thought...at least the get in bed part. They wouldn't be sleeping. He'd have her on her back, her luscious legs wrapped around his hips, and her voluptuous breasts pressed against his chest. She'd be hot, sweaty, and gasping for breath as he thrust his cock into her sweet heat. However, that fantasy was never going to happen. “Bad day I take it.”

Krissy slumped into a chair next to him, brushing her hand along his shoulder. A shot of adrenaline hit his heart and instantly surged into his groin.

“I'm totally screwed.” Her voice held a note of seriousness and tonight, absent was the carefree smile and her eyes didn't sparkle.

Johnny leaned in close. “What's up?” Bad choice of words considering the physical state of his aroused body. Heat pooled in his balls then into his cock hardening behind the fly of his trousers. He shifted, easing the pressure. Still, tingles chased along his spine, and blood surged into the shaft.

She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “I need to talk to you...later,” she said under her breath. “Not here.”

Oh hell. Krissy wanted to
talk
. Listening to her sexcapades made him ache for what he couldn't have. But who else, other than the best friend's shoulder would she cry on when another relationship ended? He supposed that was better than when she bent his ear with details of the most amazing sex she had on the back of Pete's motorcycle. Pete was an ass. Better to be the shoulder. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

He put his hand on her knee and gave a squeeze. It was hard—
wrong word
— it was difficult being in love with your best friend.

Johnny glanced around. It was a slow Thursday night at Stuart's Karaoke Bar and Grill. Karaoke in the front, local bands and dancing in the back, Stuart's was the place where Johnny unwound with his friends after work or school. Sunday morning they'd all meet again for brunch. Stuart, Stu as the regulars knew him, made the best chowder.

Four others sat around the table. The usual suspects— Shelby and Ryan, Casey and Drew, along with he and Krissy made up the perfect six- pack.

Johnny slid a beer in front of her. “I ordered for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him. He found her mouth incredibly sexy, almost pouty. Pink and tempting, her tongue licked her upper lip just before she sampled her drink.

Sweat dampened his palms. Time slowed as her head tipped back, the motion stretching her neck. The muscles beneath her skin moved sensuously with each swallow. Blood pounded in his head, echoing hollow in his ears. He licked his own suddenly dry lips.

“You aren't okay?” he said when she guzzled half her drink.

Shelby's cackle of a laugh drew Krissy's attention, and she didn't answer.

A couple of beers and Shelby practically sat on Ryan's lap. They made a cute couple, like a fierce, bottle- redhead Barbie meets Ken. Barbie liked tanning beds and Ken could make the gym his second residence. Johnny didn't know how much verbal communication went on between them, but the body language spoke loud enough. Their sexual chemistry made it difficult to sit next to Krissy and not become distracted with his body's responses. His cock throbbed in his pants. He would've thought the years would numb Krissy's allure. It wasn't enough to love her bubbly personality, good heart, and honesty. He had to be physically attracted to her, too.

Johnny wished he were more like Drew.

Drew was single with an
I don't give a damn
attitude. After dropping out of college, his parents yanked his monthly stipend. University out, the new assistant manager of used car sales in. Evidently, business was good. Drew had a new car, new condominium, and he was systematically fucking his way through the bar regulars. Thankfully, he drew the line at sleeping with his friends. That courtesy didn't extend to sisters of friends, so when Casey said, “My sister is knocked up,” Drew choked on his drink.

“Relax,” Casey said, pounding on his back. “She knows who the father is and it isn't you. Still, she's freaking out. It was a hit and run— on her part. The guy already has a couple of kids he doesn't take care of, and she knows she's on her own. Seemed wiser to cut the ties early rather than wait for the sperm donor to bail sometime down the road.”

“Is she scared?” Krissy asked.

“Shitless. But you know how she is. Her philosophy is life's a roller coaster,” Casey raised an eyebrow, “so hang on and scream.”

Krissy finished her drink, confirming Johnny's growing suspicions. Something had upset her.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.

She turned red and glassy eyes to him. “Yes, but you don't need to leave.” She grabbed her purse and stood. “I'll see you all on Sunday.”

“You okay?” Shelby asked concern discernible in her voice.

A small smile curved Krissy's lips. “I'm just having a bad day.”

“I'll go with you.” Johnny didn't give Krissy a chance to protest. He stood and put his hand on her lower back then gently turned her toward the exit. “See you Sunday,” he said to everyone.

Krissy waved over her shoulder and Johnny followed her out of the bar. The instant they exited, she turned into his arms and buried her face in his chest.

He ran his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. Scents uniquely Krissy's, vanilla and lavender, surrounded him as he pulled her close. “I'll take you home.” With his heart lodged in his throat, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Mine or yours?” He hated to see her unhappy. Worse, he hated to see her cry.

“Your truck, my house.”

They crossed the parking lot to his truck. He opened the driver's side door and she scooted onto the seat. Johnny followed. Krissy sat hip to hip beside him. He turned the ignition and the vehicle roared to life. “So spill it.”

“Do you remember when I went to the doctor last week?”

He nodded. The hum and vibration of the engine seemed loud in the truck. She shuddered against him as she took a deep breath. “For your endometriosis, right?” He pulled out of the parking lot and turned into traffic.

“Yeah, I had a scope and a scrape.”

“And that is— ”

“A diagnostic scope. Laparoscopic surgery, not a big deal. He goes in, finds the scar tissue and the uses a laser to remove as much of it as he can. Dr. Hart calls it laser vaporization.”

“Sounds painful.”

“It's not that bad.” She sighed deeply. “This time the news wasn't what I wanted to hear.”

Johnny tightened his grip on the wheel. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. Bad news.” She blinked, but tears still welled in her eyes.

“Hey,” He pulled her closer. “It's okay. We'll deal with whatever it is.” He adjusted his shoulders and sniffed hard through his nose in an attempt to regain some composure. “Okay, so how serious is it?” Since she wasn't hospitalized and wasn't in hysterics, he assumed her condition wasn't life threatening. However, on the other hand, whatever she had to say had clearly shaken her.

“This is the day my world alters on its axis. Because one way or another, it's going to end my life as I know it.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

She gave a snort. “Try being in my shoes.”

He adjusted in the seat and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Out with it. Just tell me what the doctor said.”

“My endometriosis is progressing more quickly than it has in the past.”

“Can't you get scraped again?” he questioned. “I'm not sure I understand the procedure, but if it helps— ”

“Just think of the surgery as having my tubes roto- rootered.”

Johnny laughed.

“It isn't funny.” She chuckled with him then her eyebrows drew together, pinching the skin of her forehead. “This is serious. Three times.” She held up three fingers. “Dr. Hart says my body can't take a fourth. I have to make some heavy- duty decisions about what I want from life.” She pressed her hands to her stomach. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

He took his arm from around her shoulder, put both hands on the steering wheel, and hit the brakes. “Do you need me to pull over?”

“Not that kind of sick...at least not yet,” she mumbled.

As it had in the doctor's office, Krissy's stomach flipped and rolled. She pulled away from Johnny. Whenever she was stressed, her left underarm pit would sweat. Just her luck, soon her nervous odor would overpower Johnny's woodsy, clean scent. Taking a deep breath, she remembered this was Johnny— her best friend. He was solid. Just the sort of strength she needed tonight, a warm body to hold her without him wanting to get her out of her pants and into bed. Hands that comforted rather than wandered.

Krissy could always count on Johnny. She'd even considered seducing him a few times. What woman wouldn't? Taller than her by several inches, he had to be close to six feet. Brown wavy hair, piercing green eyes, masculine features, and a square jaw with a shadow of afternoon stubble— he was gorgeous. However, best friends made poor bedfellows and she didn't exactly have a great record with men. That didn't mean when she was alone at night with her thoughts, she didn't wonder how Johnny would hold her as a lover. As a friend, he was the best.

“I'm sorry,” he said and chuckled.

Her head snapped around.

“I know it isn't funny, but roto- rooter? Does your doctor consider himself a plumber?”

She let out a breath, relieved she hadn't spoken aloud. Of course, she was attracted to Johnny. Even though she wasn't seeing anyone, the friendship was too important to risk. Maybe what was missed opportunity for her, now seemed clearly for the best.

“There isn't a cure,” she said. “Endometriosis doesn't simply go away.”

Johnny pulled into her assigned parking slot at the apartment complex she called home. A one- bedroom unit with hookups, she didn't have to make trips to the laundry. Well, Johnny didn't make trips to the laundry either, not unless you call her apartment the wash and go. Her home could also be called the dine and dash, and occasionally the pee and leave. He had a key. A time or two, okay, more often than that, she'd wake up to find him asleep on her couch. She didn't mind. It was nice having company in the morning for coffee.

He followed her up the walkway. She could feel his eyes boring into her back. “You can't tell from looking at me,” she said, putting the key in the lock and then opening the door. “And no, you wouldn't see it if you looked. There's nothing unusual with my pussy.”

“I wasn't going to ask.”

“No, but you were thinking about it. Admit it.”

He shut the door behind him as she went to the couch and plopped herself down.

“So there must be more.” He draped his suit coat over the tattered recliner and knelt on the floor in front of her.

“Did you go to Stu's straight from the office?” His wrinkled dress shirt molded to his torso, defining his chiseled pectorals and biceps. He looked comfortably soft. Taking one foot, he slipped off her shoe and then did the same for the other foot.

“Yes. Now what did Dr. Hart say? Did you complain about your periods?”

“I don't bitch about periods.” At his raised eyebrows, she laughed. “I blame my irritability on the painful PMS.” The muscles in his forearms bunched when he rubbed, drawing small circles with his thumb into her instep. She noted the way the dark, curly arm hair swirled against his tanned skin.