He's in the living room, painting Camille, telling stories of lust and playfulness. He had everyone on edge. Especially her. She had her eyes locked on him, biting her lower lip. He knew it. He knew she was looking. "I touched that spot in her thigh, the inside of her thigh where it's soft as cream with my brush."he narrates." And what did she say? " Camille asks." Brush me again. " Laurent responds, ignoring Camille and looking into her eyes.