trace of forced entry — or exit, of course, Gwen thought with a hidden grin, knowing the skill her quick fingers held at such work. It was what she was good at, why she had become invaluable to the gang. Gwen had nimble fingers and a quick mind, and could open nearly every lock or safe she came across. It was one of the reasons why Doc had kept her as a child, and he continually called upon her to prove her worth.
Roderick held open the door, motioning for her to enter the tiny berth. The door adjoining Doc’s quarters was closed, as he had been sleeping for some time when she left. Gwen turned to say goodnight to Roderick, but found that he had followed in behind her. The cramped quarters meant they were nearly nose-to-nose. She cleared her throat and sat on the bed, putting some space between them. After shutting the door, he leaned back against it, staring down at her.
“How long have you been letting yourself out?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Ah… since the first night,” she said, an idea slowly forming in her mind. She hadn’t wanted him to die, no, but she did want to be free of him. Perhaps there was a way to make it so.
She stood and sauntered over to him, trying not to be obvious, but wanting to catch his attention. Gwen saw the desire flare in his eyes, and she smiled coyly up at him.
“Do you want me to teach you?” she asked, coming to stand as close to him as she could without touching him.
“Teach me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, his attention clearly wavering from their conversation.
“How to pick a lock,” she said as if it were obvious of what she was speaking, and he frowned in return.
“I know how to pick a lock.”
“Do you?” she asked, closing in on him.
“I do,” he said with a nod.
“Would you like to prove yourself?” she asked, coming to stand just in front of him, their lips but a breath away from one another.
“No,” he said with a choked groan, and then he lost what little control he had apparently been holding on to and hauled her to him. She stood on her toes to make up for the few inches between them and brought her lips to his, tasting him with the hunger that had burned in her belly since the last time they had met in such a dance. As much as she had orchestrated this situation, she couldn’t deny the pull she had to him, nor her own wish to feel him against her. As their tongues tangled together and she wrapped her arm around his neck, she knew she wanted more, oh so much more, from him. And yet, as much as she physically desired him, she had enough rational thought to know he wasn’t the man for her. He wanted to capture her. He wanted to contain her. And no man would ever, nor could ever, do so. She wouldn’t allow it.
Gwen would rather die than spend the rest of her life in a jail cell.
She pulled him back from the door, slipping her hand into his pocket as she did so, discreetly, adeptly, without him knowing what she was doing. She turned him around, entirely the aggressor now, and she kept her lips on his as she pushed her body against him to move him back toward the bed, her arms still round his neck and broad shoulders. It felt powerful, to be able to hold such command over a man like Roderick, and as she pushed him backward on the mattress, a part of her held deep regret that she was not able to take full advantage of the situation.
“Gwen,” he said, breaking the seal of their kiss. “I’m not sure if this is a good—”
“Shh,” she said, bringing a finger to his lips, “just lay back.”
He raised himself to his elbows now, his face twisted in seeming confusion over his morals.
“One moment,” she said, rising and making her way to the door. She took one look back at him, and he must have read something on her face as he suddenly rose up in one quick motion.
“Gwen, no!” But it was too late. She slipped out, shutting the door behind her and turning the key in the lock.
Roderick yelled out a curse that likely woke half the ship.
He was a fool. A bloody fool who thought not with his