“Drawing you like one of my French girls,” I say with a quirk of my lips. I adjust the pillow behind my back and grip my digital sketchbook tighter to prevent it from slipping off my knee. Devon lets out a loud chuckle, his whole face lighting up with a broad grin. “Can I see?” I shrug and tilt my sketchpad so he can see what I’ve drawn so far, which is basically just his arse and upper thighs. “Nice. I like how you’re really focusing in on my best feature.”
