Oh. When he goes all stern like that, leaning in, saying without words that he knows something about how the Hotel is run is fucky, Kurt feels a shiver go down the length of their spine. Intellectually, they know his words should frighten them. No provisions for the permanent residents. The Hotel is potentially a volatile money sink. It should scare them senseless, the thought of losing their job and potentially going to prison, if their secret is revealed.

But instead, all they can think about is what a compelling Dom this man would make. How easily they would surrender to him. There’s no hiding the flush of color over their cheeks.

“Yes,” they breathe, before they have the chance to reel themself in. It’s humiliating when it hits them, just how needy they sound. Clearing their throat, Kurt straightens up and tries to return to a somewhat professional headspace: “Yes, sir, I am. If I may be so bold, there’s no one more capable in the building than I am.”

They meet his gaze head-on, fighting through the blushing and the shivers, keeping their tone firm and serious to match Mr. Molloy’s. “I know all the ins and outs of this place, and how to improve it.” And how to keep their cam work a secret. “You won’t regret hiring me as your assistant, sir.”