Free Chosen Alien Gene: The Complete Collection (SciFi Alien Menage Romance) by Meg Ripley Page A

defined as a type.
    As he prepared to leave his laboratory and temporary home, Banek looked over his outfit intently, comparing it against the norms that he had absorbed from books and films. He had left his long, dark hair flowing, though the brush of it against his shoulders was still something that he couldn’t quite get used to. His broad, muscled chest was on display in a loose shirt, the first three buttons open. A pair of tight jeans—and Banek had wondered more than once how any human male could be comfortable in the constricting garment—accentuated his muscled legs, and a pair of boots covered his feet. Banek debated whether or not to include the leather jacket he had purchased; but the planet was much warmer than his own—and it was the season that humans called summer, making it even warmer in the area he had chosen for his base. He decided against it.
    In the weeks since Banek had established his base on the planet, he had not found a great deal of success in attracting a subject. Some of his other colleagues had reported back already, finding preliminary success with human women and putting forth some new ideas about female sexuality. Banek had absorbed some of the information that his fellow scientists had come up with, but he was eager to test his own theories. He had met with one of his colleagues the week before; Hanket had managed to find a subject to work with, and the woman had given him a wealth of information—namely that women were capable of climaxing many, many times in the course of a sexual interlude. Hanket had laughed the Khateen way, saying, “It’s very, very gratifying to test how many times she can achieve climax in a single session,” he had told Banek.

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    Banek made his way towards the bar he had planned to patronize that evening in order to seek out a willing human woman for experimentation, considering the problems he had encountered thus far. Some of the women he had met over the weeks he had been on the planet seemed to be interested in him romantically at first—but somehow, he had not managed to convince any of them to follow through. I’ll have to refine my techniques, he thought as he walked along the sidewalk, barely taking in his surroundings. He had become a “regular” at the bar—Banek had been careful to tip well every time he ordered a beverage, and to be patient with the bartenders, waiting until they had served others without complaining. There was one woman at the bar that he had seen a few times—but always, it seemed, she was with someone else, usually a group of friends.
    She was tall and slim, with dark hair and green eyes, and there was something about her that drew Banek’s gaze again and again. He had not been able to understand the feeling that came over him whenever he saw her—it was foreign to any experience he’d ever had. But the sound of her voice, the way that she moved, made Banek wish again and again that he could gather the courage to speak with her, to use his well-studied behaviors and mannerisms to convince her to participate in his experiments. While he had refreshed his studies on the subject of how romantic males approached a woman in a group, he was no closer to understanding how to perform the correct way than he had been before.
    Banek stepped through the door of the bar called Vagabond, looking around. It was early in the evening; there were only a few people scattered around, listening to the music and nursing beer or cocktails, talking in small knots of two or three people. “Banek!” the man behind the bar called out, and Banek raised his hand, nodding his head to acknowledge the greeting. He told himself that he would find a subject that evening—whether it was the woman he had been interested in or not.
    Banek approached the bar, settling on one of the stools, waiting as the bartender finished serving a diminutive brunette. She was a potential subject, Banek thought, examining her as nonchalantly as possible. The