Closing the distance between them, she flung her arms around his neck
and met his lips with her own. It was a breathless, desperate, clinging kiss. For
a few heartbeats R.J. closed his eyes, and let himself drown in the feeling of
her, his arms around her waist and back, pulling her closer, the scent of her
surrounding him, mint and antiseptic, the way her tongue ran tentatively over
his bottom lip sending prickles up his spine. Just a few heartbeats was all he
allowed himself before he broke off, resting his forehead on hers. It wasn’t
enough. It never was, but that was the price to be paid when your relationship
consisted of sneaking around after hours so that you didn’t end your career on
a charge.
Could be differences in style. It's not...stilted exactly. Too wordy and ...ah. That old nugget: Too telling. You're telling well, but telling.
Closing the distance between them, she flung her arms around his neck
and met his lips with her own. Clinging, she gasps into his mouth. Her nails digging into his skin through the uniform.
He closes his eyes, the double speed pace of his heart hammering alongside the surging need that is only more savage appetite with her pressed up against him, not less.
He breathes her in: mint, antiseptic, heat. A tremor, a tingle sizzles across his nerves as she, giggling, runs her tongue along his lower lip.
He nibbles, she gasps arching against him. A heartbeat. Two.
With a groan he pulls away from her, his breath whistling like an over taxed engine.
"Not enough," he rasped in a throaty rumble.
"No," she replied taking a step away, toward the door through which she'd come. "Never enough."
He could only grunt an affirmative, too busy wrestling the beast behind his eyes back into its cage.
"But that's the price," she whispered and was gone.
A few moments passed in the shadows of the now empty room.
"And I pay it gladly."
Then again I'm a bit more...er...visceral in my writing. Also the bulk of this is his perspective, I'm not sure what it is in your actual work.





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