Spies and Lies: A Striker x Reader Fanfiction

Chapter Thirteen

You entered through the motel doors only to find Striker strumming his electric guitar that he had played at the harvest moon festival. You couldn't recognize what he was playing, but it sounded really beautiful. When he noticed you had entered the motel, he frowned and put his guitar away, trying to seem like he was still mad at you.

"Took you long enough to get over here." He said.

"Oh, so now you want to be around me?" You joked. He growled, still sitting hunched on the bed.

"Who said I wanted you around? We obviously still need to talk business." He said.

"Yeah, we could talk business, or we could talk about last night." You said, abruptly trying to get him to stop avoiding the topic.

"Or you could tell me more of what you know about that rodeo clown and his lanky birdy if you want that anti venom." There was a serious edge to his voice, making it very clear that he would do anything to avoid the conversation you were trying to spark. What he didn't know was that you were relentless.

"Cut the crap, Striker! Are we going to talk about last night or not?" You raised your voice a little, starting to get frustrated with him.

"No, we're not." He responded bluntly.

"Why not?" You asked, firing the question back at him.

"Because there's nothing to talk about."

"That's what you said back at the bar but clearly there is something to talk about. Why else would you be avoiding the conversation?" You said.

"Just because I don't want to talk doesn't mean that there is something to talk about." There was a pause of silence between the two of you, the tension growing stronger every second. Suddenly, you had an idea, letting a smirk slip onto your face.

"Are you a gambling man?" He made a face of confusion, not sure how to react to the question.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"What's the matter? Do you have cotton in your ears?" You asked, mocking him for the night before when he asked you the same question. He beared his teeth, growling.

"Depends on the gamble. What the hell are you going on about?" You chuckled.

"What about a game of black jack? If I win, we talk about what happened last night between us." He scoffed at what you said.

"And what if I win?" He asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me cowboy?" You gave him a wink making him roll his eyes.

"I'll take your offer on one condition: we play black jack my way." He said, intriguing your interest.

"That's fine, but what do you want if you win, other than continuing to be shit at communication?" He chuckled as he grabbed a pack of cards out of the bedside table drawer.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." You noted that he said, 'when' we get to it, not 'if'. He took the cards out of their box and shuffled them after taking a seat at the table across from you.

"So what is your way of playing black jack?" He smirked at you from across the table, making you blush. He dealt the cards, each of you having one card showing and one that only you could see. Your face up card was a 10 and your face down card was a 6. Adrenaline was pumping from the excitement of competing against him. You'd always been really good at gambling.

"Hit me." You said as he dealt you another card face up. It was a 3. You were confident in your luck.

"Stay." You said. He dealt another card and also decided to stay. The two of you revealed your face down card, your total being 19 and his being 17. You smirked, knowing you'd won.

"Now can we talk about last night?" You looked at him with a shit eating grin as he took his boots off.

"What are you doing?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, the grin erased by confusion.

"Taking off my boots and we're not talking about shit yet. The game isn't over." You tilted your head, looking confused. He chuckled.

"I said we play black jack my way. My way includes higher stakes. If you lose a round, you take something off. It's called strip black jack." Your face flushed a bright shade of red, making him smirk.

"Look who doesn't want to talk now." He teased, making you blush more. He dealt the next round of cards and suddenly you felt your confidence drop to the floor. Your face down card was a 5 and your face up card was a 6. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure.

"Hit me." He dealt a card which was an ace. Aces were always useful as they could represent a 1 or an 11 depending on what was needed. You decided it was a 1 because if it was an 11 it would be a bust.

"Hit me." The next card was a 3. He dealt another one as you asked and it was a 4. You decided to stay with a score of 19. He revealed his cards and it was an 18. You chuckled as he sighed and took off his hat.

"Don't get too cocky now, we're just getting started." He dealt another round of cards, your face down card being a 10 and your face up card being a 4.

"Hit me." He dealt you an 8, a bust. You looked up at him and flipped your card over to reveal your loss. He smirked making you blush as you hesitantly took off your black heeled boots.

A few more rounds went by, he was down to his pants, his shirt and of course his boxers. You were left with your shirt, your shorts and your undergarments as well, giving you a bit of an advantage over him since you had more to take off. He dealt another round of cards, your face up card being a 2 and your face down card being a king. The total equivalent so far was 12 so you decided to get another card. It was a 5. You took the risk of having another card dealt and decided to stay upon the revelation of the card being a 3. Striker ended up busting. He glared at you as he took off his shirt.

He dealt another round of cards, your face down card was a king and your face up card was a queen. You decided to stay. Striker's cards came out to an equivalent of 17. He sighed as he took off his pants. You were one round away from winning the game, but things had just gotten a little harder as you were admittedly distracted by the sight of him in his boxers. The next round, your face down card was a 6 and your face up card was a 7. You had him deal another card which was a jack. Striker smirked when you revealed the cards.

"Well, get to stripping darling." He teased. You slowly pulled off your shirt, revealing your (f/c) bra. His eyes wandered to your chest making you blush.

"Shut up and deal the cards!" He chuckled as he dealt a new round. Your face up card was a 4 and your face down card was a 9. You asked for another card and it was a 5. You decided to stay, not wanting to risk a bust. You revealed your cards with a total of 18, but Striker's cards had a total of 20. You hesitantly began taking off your shorts, revealing a matching set of underwear to your bra. The tension from the competition was making the room feel rather hot.

He dealt another round of cards, your face up card being a 7 and your face down card being a 9. You took the risk of getting another card and ended up busting. Striker chuckled as he grinned from ear to ear. You blushed as you slowly unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Striker's eyes wandered to your chest, making you feel even more flustered.

"What're you looking at, cowboy?" You frantically shouted. He continued to grin as he dealt another round of cards. Your face up card was a king and your face down card was a jack. Your flustered state suddenly turned into a bout of confidence as you smirked at him.

"Stay." You said. He raised an eyebrow at you as he dealt his cards. He decided to stay as well without dealing another card. You revealed your cards.

"20. Beat that cowboy!" He started laughing, making you feel unnerved. He flipped over his hidden card to reveal a king and an ace. A total of 21. Your stomach dropped as you knew you had lost.