The sex was fantastic.

It was energetic and fun, even a little aggressive which was her preference, if she was being honest.

After a long week, he was an interesting surprise. She'd been told to expect someone "a little unorthodox" and still she was thrown. He was tall and wore a tailored, charcoal gray suit that matched his eyes. His head was shaved down to dark stubble. On anyone else it might have looked severe but it suited him.

The hotel was expensive and the staff was discreet. It was her preference for these liaisons. The penthouse looked out over Republic City, which was beautiful in the evening. Under the setting sun, the lights stretched out toward the horizon and the expanse of the purple sky.

He'd introduced himself - Aang - and she wondered if he was using a pseudonym. A lot of them did. His hands were strong and gentle and each time he took off an article of her clothing, he explored the newly exposed skin with his fingertips. He was so beguiling and it felt so good, she forgot herself a little and in short order, she was standing in front of him in her underwear. All he'd done was remove his tie.

He was athletic and beautifully built. He was a swimmer, maybe, or ran marathons. Apart from looking impressive, there was something intuitive about the way he responded to her physically, the way he read her body, and she couldn't place what it's source might be. He smiled easily and it was disarming how genuine it always seemed.

Sweet. That was the best way to describe him.

Bringing commerce into sex made it a very goal-driven activity. When there was an hourly rate involved, it often felt perfunctory and shallow. But he never rushed. Whenever she expected him to move harder or faster, he retreated instead, drawing it out, slowing down, touching her even more gently.

She sat in bed with him after, studying his tattoos and making idle conversation, still wanting him and wondering if it would be imposing to ask if he could go again. He looked a little younger than her, in his mid twenties. He probably wouldn't need long.

"Do you want a cocktail?" he asked, pointing vaguely toward the bar.

"I don't really drink," she replied.

"Yeah, me neither." He leaned over the edge of the bed for his pants and she expected him to get up and get dressed, to leave. Instead, he fished through the pockets and produced a slim cigarette case and a silver lighter. The lighter had an elaborate letter A engraved on it. A post-coital smoke with a hooker was so cliché, she was almost disappointed in him.

"Do you want to smoke a joint?" he asked.

She cocked an eyebrow in surprise and he shrugged.

"You said you had a rough week."

"Did I?" she marveled. She'd certainly thought it but couldn't remember saying it aloud.

"Might help you relax," he offered, "And I don't have anywhere else to be."

They smoked and chatted. She found herself venting about work - as best she could without disclosing any information about her clients. He watched her without speaking, his warm grey eyes on her, laying back against the pillows. She opened up to him in a way she usually avoided but felt unable to stop herself. He was so easy to talk to. She told him how hard it was to connect with people when she was so consumed with her work. Sometimes she thought it didn't matter how rewarding she found it if there was so little left over.

They had sex again, this time slow and languid. She gasped his name when she came and turned her face away to hide the fact that she was blushing.

As he got dressed, her phone rang from where she'd left it atop her briefcase. She sighed and sent it to voicemail.

"Just once I'd like to go an entire weekend without having to talk about environmental law," she grumbled, pulling the covers up over her chest.

He chuckled as he knotted his tie in front of the mirror, "Sounds like you're in high demand."

She could hear his phone buzz in his pocket and nodded toward it.

"You, too." There was a moment of silence between them before she said, "I want to see you again."

He grinned and pulled his phone out, scrolling casually through his calendar with his thumb.

"Next Friday? I'm pretty open so I'm yours right after you finish work if you want." He seemed to consider something for a moment. "We could do an overnight, get brunch in the morning?"

"That sounds excellent," she sighed, "It'll give me something to look forward to next week when I'm getting screamed at by Judge Chan."

"Great." He took a card from his breast pocket and crossed the room to hand it to her. It was bone white and read simply 'Aang' and 'Republic City'. His mobile number was on the back.

"Call me next week to confirm. I let clients come to my place sometimes." He gestured to the room around them, "It's a little more intimate than this if you're interested."

Katara had never given an escort such an obscene tip.