Biting the Bride (32 page)

Sunni learned at the reception that vampires love to dance. Any ungainliness they might have had while human was erased, and they never got tired or developed blisters. At midnight Sunni finally called a break so that she could throw the bouquet, and it landed squarely in the strong and steady arms of Isabel, who exchanged a knowing look with the boyfriend she’d brought from San Francisco.

Finally the party was over and everyone had gone home. Sunni and Jacob sat together on the couch in the small, formal parlor of his colonial farmhouse. The house was wired for electricity, but now the only light was from the moon gleaming through the wavy glass of the tall mullioned windows. Sunni leaned against Jacob’s chest, her ankles propped on the arm of the stiff satin sofa, a glass of champagne in her hand.

“We’re going to need some new furniture,” Sunni said.

“What’s wrong with this furniture?” Jacob patted the back of the sofa, and a cloud of dust was released into the air. “I thought you liked old things. ”

Sunni leaned her head back. She pulled Jacob to her and gave him a lingering kiss. “I love old things,” she murmured. “But this sofa is awful. When’s it from, 1860? That was the worst era for furniture.”

“It serves its purpose.” Jacob slid his hand up Sunni’s bare leg. “I think we could do anything we wanted on this sofa.”

“Could we make a baby?”

The progress of Jacob’s hand stopped at mid-thigh. His face grew serious. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yes. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I just didn’t know it until I met you.” She nudged his hand so that it continued on its way. “And it’s not illegal anymore. The Council has changed the rules, thanks to you.”

“And to you,” Jacob said, his lips against her mouth. “The old ways are giving way to the new.” His tongue was warm, slick and velvety, and Sunni felt herself start to melt.

“I would be the happiest man in the world, to have a family with you, Sunni,” Jacob said, his voice thick with emotion.

Sunni carefully placed her champagne flute on the worn wooden floor, and then sat up so that she was straddling Jacob’s lap. She slid both hands under his loose shirt, feeling the hard ridges of muscle in his abdomen, and higher, until they rested on his chest. His heart was pounding hard, and his breath came in shallow, labored pants. He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her so hard she tasted blood, but she didn’t back away. She jerked her arms so that the buttons popped off his shirt, and he laughed without taking his lips off of hers. She filled her fists with his thick, wild hair. And then they were making love, and everything old was new again.