Owned by My MC Stepbroter

Chapter6

I walked to the house with so many questions in my head. Was I going to sign the contract? What types of things would we do during sex? Should I be mad that he doesn’t want to share abed with me? I couldn’t decide ifI was a random piece of ass to him, or if this was going to be something more. Could it ever be more since our parents were getting married? Starving and exhausted, I made a snack and went to my room. I was emotionally raw and so confused, but my body ached and I couldn’t keep my eyes open to think anymore.

It was the next morning when I woke up that I realized I didn’t even have Rob’s phone number. I flipped through my phone, looking at text message from friends, even some from guys that wanted to hang out. It didn’t matter if I’m single or not, all I could think about was Rob. I had an upcoming weekend trip with some of my friends, and I was wondering if I would see him before he took off. I didn’t want to ask my mom for his number, because of her reaction when I asked about him before. I decided to look him up.

I found him on their company website. Robert Trexler Jr. had quite the resume, and his picture looked like a male model. I typed in a Google search for him, to see what I could find. Most of the stuff was business related, however there were some social media hits. His profiles were private, so I decided to request him as a friend on Facebook and Instagram. We were going to be siblings, so it made sense right? After exhausting my efforts, I went downstairs to eat.

Over a bowl of cereal I decided to increase the amount of cardio I did throughout the week, I was exhausted and fatigued from last night’s affair. My mother had returned, and insisted we go out shopping together for my trip this weekend, and she wanted to get lunch. As I stripped down to get in the shower, I noticed a glow about myself in my reflection. I felt more like a woman than I ever had, and it looked good on me.

It was during lunch I checked my phone and saw that I had a message on my Facebook. It was Rob, and the message had his office number. Although I thought it was odd, I excused myself for a moment and went outside to call him. “Robert Trexler” he answered, and I was taken back by his deep and professional tone. “Hi, it’s Sarah” I responded, not really sure what else to say. “I was wondering how I could get a hold of you this morning, but it looks like you beat me too it” he teased, and suddenly I felt embarrassed I had been so eager to reach out to him. We exchanged cell phone numbers, and I agreed to meet him in the city tonight. I just had to come up with a story for my mom, since I wouldn’t be returning home for the night.

I talked briefly with my mother and Calvin before leaving, saying friends and I were having dinner in the city, and I would probably being staying the night on the other side of town. I promised we had a driver, and they didn’t give a second thought to my story. Since I was a bit of a socialite, it was possible that it would get back to my mother that I was out with Rob, and he was obviously a paparazzi target as well.

Earlier in the day I noticed that Rob hadn’t accepted any of my friend or follow requests, which I thought was odd. Was there something that he didn’t want me to see? Did he have a girlfriend he didn’t want me to know about? I was starting to realize that I had questions, and I really wanted to get answers. I asked him if we could get something to eat, and with hesitation he finally agreed that we could.

I met him at his downtown Charleston apartment building, which was at least a dozen stories high. He met me in the parking lot, so I hadn’t even seen was it looked like. Rob drove my car, and we headed to dinner. “Why are we driving so far off the main strip?” I asked, as we turned and moved, but he didn’t really give an answer. When I arrived, I realized we were in a very low key location. “Do you not want to be seen with me?” I interrogated. Rob turned to face me, “I don’t think we should publicize spending personal time together, with our parents getting ready to walk down the aisle. It’s not a good look for me, and we don’t even know what’s going on” he admitted. I was stung, but wanted to play it cool.

After a few drinks, thanks to make fake I.D., we were able to start talking and laughing. We talked about everything from college to our parents, and even about the expectations associated with being wealthy and a socialite. I felt like we were connecting, and I could tell he felt comfortable and relaxed too. He paid the bill and we were heading home, and I couldn’t think of anything but him between my legs with his mouth and his cock. I reached over and started rubbing him with my hand.