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

woman seemed improbably tiny by Khateen standards, but he had met women who were smaller than she. Her body was intensely curved: her breasts so full and her waist so small that for a moment Banek wondered how it was possible for her to live without pain. The woman smiled up at the bartender, taking her drinks and leaving a few dollars on the bar as a tip before she left, and Banek considered the possibility of beginning the complex dance that would—he hoped—lead to her agreeing to come “home” with him.
    “What’ll you have tonight, Banek?” the bartender asked, leaning forward slightly. “Love the look you’ve got going tonight, by the way; much better than the cowboy thing.” Banek nodded, smiling.
    “I think I’ll have a whiskey sour, James.” He had been trying all of the alcoholic drinks he had seen mentions of in books and films—since the Khateen were able to drink alcohol with almost no effects, he had seen no reason not to.
    “Good choice.” James started to grab a bottle of whiskey and glanced up as someone walked into the bar. “Looks like your lady-love is here,” James said with a little smile. Banek’s eyes widened and he glanced in the direction of the bar’s entrance. Walking through the door—for once by herself—was the tall, slim, dark haired woman. Banek felt his heart beating a little faster; she looked upset—which filled him with a mixture of concern as well as excitement. A damsel in distress was the perfect opening for his particular understanding of human seduction. So many of the stories he had seen depicting romance involved an upset woman; at first, in his research, Banek had thought that the distress was a required component—but he learned quickly that it simply increased the odds of success.
    James served Banek his drink and moved immediately to the seat that the tall, slim woman sat down at. Banek racked his mind for the best possible opening. She had chosen a stool a few places down from him; that didn’t exactly make it easy to talk to her. He thought about his options carefully as he sipped his drink. The whiskey sour was potent—Banek thought that if his metabolism were human, it would give him what was called a “buzz” before he even finished it. He laid down a few dollars for James’ tip and watched as the bartender spoke to the object of his interest. He saw the tall, slim woman smile slightly, nodding to something James said. Banek felt an irrational surge of irritation at the man, who he considered something like a friend, and pushed down the impulse. There was such a thing as getting too into character, he told himself firmly.
    James mixed a drink for the woman, and Banek watched in fascination as the bartender added one element after another into the steel mixing cup, shaking vigorously before pouring it into a glass. The woman must be in deep distress indeed , Banek thought. Normally she drank very straightforward cocktails: gin-tonic, or whiskey-Coke. Banek sipped his drink again as he thought about how he would approach her; it would take something very great indeed to woo such an unattainable woman, even when she was in distress.

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    Jessica smiled at her favorite bartender, James, as he handed her the Long Island Iced Tea he had decided she needed after hearing the cause of her troubles. She moved to slide her card across the bar and James shook his head, wagging his finger. “We’ll open you a tab if you decide you want another, but that one’s on me, Sweetie,” he said, turning to help the next customer. She sighed and took a long, grateful sip; at least, she thought, if she had to contemplate the wreckage her life had suddenly become, she would at least be able to enjoy the haze of liquor to soften it. She looked around the bar; Vagabond had been her favorite place for years—ever since a friend had introduced her to the hole-in-the-wall bar. The relationship with the bartenders had outlasted her friendship, and the ever-changing