But Death, of course he’s been watching me. Studying me. The hair at the back of my neck begins to rise, as if his gaze is getting more intense, then heat starts to build between my legs, making me squeeze my thighs together. Holy shit. What was that? I look away from Death and down at the wine. He couldn’t have made me feel that just by looking at me, could he have? There it is again. A sharp ache where all the blood is rushing to my core and I’m shifting in my seat, trying to get rid of this very unwanted rush of desire.
