Lane slid the second earring into place, then gave his reflection one last careful inspection.
He tilted his head left, then right.
Satisfied, he smoothed a hand over his skirt and turned around on the stool to face me.
“Okay,” he declared brightly. Those glossy lips curved into a grin. “I’m ready, Daddy.”
We took the elevator down to the private garage beneath the building. The cool air smelled faintly of concrete and motor oil as I unlocked the car. Lane gathered his skirt carefully as he slid into the passenger seat, tucking his legs neatly together like the well-mannered thing that he was—usually. Other times, he enjoyed slicing men open and fucking himself on my cock right next to their dead bodies.
Other, other times, he’d throw tantrums from the rapidly fluctuating chemicals in his brain and needed me to baby him until he was relaxed enough to sleep it off.
I loved all sides of him.
As I’d said many times before, every piece of him fit perfectly with every piece of me. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, created specifically for me. I’d had every right to take him, because he’d been mine to begin with.
The drive today was easy, with Lane spending most of it looking out the window, humming along to the radio while sunlight caught in his hair like flame. I rested a hand on his knee at one point, and felt the pleased little way he leaned closer to me.
We passed our usual mall about twenty minutes in.
Lane noticed immediately. “Daddy?” he asked.
“Thought we’d try somewhere new today,” I told him casually.
The truth was I’d done my research.
There was a boutique at a more upscale shopping center a few cities over—one that carried lingerie specifically designed for men.
Lane and I typically bought his lingerie online.
Sometimes we’d pick up a piece or two while out, but those were always a bit ill-fitting since they’d been made with a different anatomy in mind. The male lingerie obviously fit a lot better, so that was what we both preferred to fill his drawers with.
And while it was lovely and fun to buy him his pretty things no matter what, I knew he’d love actually being able to shop for them in person. Try things on, feel fabrics, etc.
By the time we pulled into the valet circle, Lane was nearly vibrating with excitement, even with me keeping the lingerie store a surprise.
The mall itself was exactly the sort of place I preferred—polished marble floors, soft lighting, quiet music drifting through the halls. Every storefront gleamed with understated luxury: designer handbags, tailored clothing, jewelry that probably cost as much as some people’s houses.
Lane’s hand tightened around mine as we stepped inside. His eyes were wide. “Oh,” he breathed.
The first boutique we stepped into sold designer womenswear. With all of these stores, I was more than prepared to defend my husband if anyone gave him shit for liking women’s fashion.
But the attendant looked up from behind the counter and immediately brightened, easing my concerns. “Well, hellothere,” she said warmly, her smile growing the longer she took in Lane’s appearance. “Goodness, you look stunning.”
Lane flushed pink almost instantly. “Thank you,” he said politely.
I could practically see the moment the sales associate decided she adored him. “Oh, wehaveto show you some things,” she said, already stepping around the counter. “That color looks beautiful on you—have you tried anything from our spring collection yet?”
Lane glanced at me for permission.
I gave a small nod. “Go ahead, baby. Whatever you want.”
That was all it took.
Within minutes, the woman had Lane surrounded by soft fabrics and hangers, holding dresses up against his frame and cooing over how pretty he looked.
Another attendant drifted over soon after.
Then another.
