Page 27 of Metatron
“And I’ll be even better now that we’ll stop fighting every time we see each other.”
The statement caused me to frown. “Are you saying you argued because you’ve been wanting to screw me?”
He brushed a hair from my cheek. “We argued because we fought against fate. We are meant to be together.”
I arched a brow. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates?”
“I didn’t until now.”
He sounded so serious. Me? I wasn’t sure what to think. This seductive Metatron didn’t resemble the cold one I’d come to expect. I kind of liked it, though, the way he became someone more intimate for me. However, how did I know this wasn’t a con? Maybe angels were players and I shouldn’t read anything into it. “Good sex doesn’t make us partners for life.”
A hint of a smile played around his lips. “Maybe not, but it certainly is a part of it.”
“I didn’t get the impression you were the kind of guy to share his space.”
“Usually, I’m not. I like my privacy. But I find myself, of late, not enjoying it as much. My thoughts have been consumed by someone.” His gaze on me let me know who he meant.
I shivered.
“You’re cold?” His arms tightened around me, and the warmth almost had me sighing against him.
Why did he have to say all the right things? Why couldn’t I believe the lie? I couldn’t wrap my mind around Metatron’s change in attitude. His confession and claim discomfited. Us, meant to be? We couldn’t be more opposite.
A shove had him releasing me, which surprised. I’d half expected I’d have to demand he let me go. I disengaged our bodies, immediately missing the warmth, my body pimpling at the loss. A rolling wetness seeping down my legs provided a reminder we’d not used a condom.
I grimaced. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m on birth control since you didn’t pull out.”
“Angels do not use contraception,” he admitted.
“Ever?” I blinked at him. “Aren’t you worried you’ll make babies?”
“Giving life is a blessing.”
“Says the guy spreading his seed but not sticking around to be a daddy to the product.”
“Warriors don’t raise fledglings. We are obligated to turn them over to the creche the moment they return to Heaven.”
“A creche being?”
“Where the fledglings are raised until they are of age to be assigned a caste.”
It sounded cold and led to me asking, “If the babies are being raised in a nursery, what about the mother?”
“Once the child is taken, there is usually no contact afterwards. Non-angels are not allowed on Heaven.”
“But half-breeds are?” A crude way of saying it.
“There is no such thing as half. If the child was created by an angel, then it is an angel.”
“The more you talk, the more I’m glad I’ve got an IUD,” I muttered.
“You do not wish to have progeny?”
My nose wrinkled. “I’ve never been with anyone long enough to really think about it. At the same time, I’m not sure if I’d make a good mother. I’m kind of old at just over forty.”
“Age doesn’t have to be a factor,” he retorted.
“Really?” I almost followed that topic of interest. But the baby thing still hung over us. “Truth is, I don’t want a kid. Not right now. I might change my mind later if we survive this mess, but for the moment, it’s a big-ass no. Knowing that, are you still sure you want to call me your soulmate?” I asked as I found my robe and slid it over my body.