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Summary
Jude seeks out Erling after his match against France.
**
Erling’s tongue pressed incessantly against his scent gland coaxing out Jude’s sweet caramel scent, “You’ve helped me with my heats, plenty. It’s just a rut.”
Erling paused his assault, piercing blue eyes twinkling with mirth, “Helped a lot of rutting Alphas before, have you?”
“No, but how hard could it be?” Jude deadpanned, “Just gotta spread my legs for you… ’Sn’t exactly rocket science, yeah?”