Page 4 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

Without thinking, I embrace her and lift her closer because fuck if she doesn’t feel good against me. She’s soft and strong, and I have to fight to keep my hands in check. All I see is gently tanned skin, mauve eyelids, and hair every shade of brown in the spectrum.

But when she pulls away, I curse.

Because that’s Isabelle fucking Sutton.

If Brad sees me kissing his girl, he’s going to hate me even more than he already does.

Before I can panic, she pivots and grabs Vin by his jersey. Purple nails sink into navy-and-white fabric as she fists it and wrenches him to her.

His eyes go wide in this hilarious expression of shock before we realize what’s about to happen.

Like with me, she wraps her arms around his neck and plants one on him. He half-resists, too, but eventually the kiss deepens and they slowly take each other in.

She steps away a bit more grounded, but it only makes it easy for her to move into Mason’s open, waiting arms.

The two go at it in this chaotic dance that quickly escalates to her jumping up on him and him catching her legs around his waist.

“IZZY, WHAT THE FUCK?” Brad roars.

Shit.

Brad storms out of the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. One of the bunnies trails along behind him. His jersey is stuck in the teeth of his jeans zipper and the girl’s hair and makeup are a mess. It’s not hard to guess what was happening.

“GET OFF MY GIRL, LITTLE LEAGUE,” he adds as his feet rattle the floorboards.

Every person in the room quiets and turns to watch.

Izzy and Mason are still sexually attacking each other. Vin elbows him, but he only shoves the smaller, younger beta out of the way.

Fucking damn it.

With my hands up in a calming gesture, I step into Brad’s path to keep him from knocking out my newbie.

“Let’s take a minute, cap,” I say to placate him.

“Your face is covered in her lipstick, Wyatt. You’re already on thin ice.”

Izzy rears on us and finally separates herself from my player.

“You can fuck right off into the sun, Brad,” she announces.

Smeared, swollen lips twist as she spits his name. The thought of this woman wailing slaps onto him crack apart the stress of the moment. It’s kind of adorable watching her get all worked up, and I have to tamp down the smile.

“Everybody calm down,” I say, adding some authority to my tone.

“I’M PERFECTLY CALM,” Brad booms, and the entire bar—including the four of us—erupts in laughter. Brad glances at the collected gazes and clenches his jaw, but his anger has taken control and doesn’t care about the spectacle.

“Someone want to explain what’s going on?” Mason asks languidly.

Guy looks just fucked from one kiss.

“The girl is Brad’s,” I explain.

He curses, but it’s overridden by Izzy jumping in.

“Was. I was Brad’s girl. Now I’m no one’s.”

Ooooohs from the crowd.

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