It's not a loss, only a readjustment, but it still feels a bit wrenching to lose the closeness of him alongside her. That's more than sufficient motivation to follow him up.

Derrica sits up on her heels first alongside Loxley, then mirrors his movement by sweeping the mass of her hair back from her face. A few bits of stray jewelry have yet to be removed, and it might mean tangling later, if she doesn't pull them out after they finish. But she doesn't care to stop for that now.

And then she reclaims her space, closes the distance between them to return to his lap. She touches his face first, retraces the drag of his hand through his hair, while she settles her weight over his thighs, reaches down to take him in hand as she kisses him, tugs lightly at the curls over his nape.