"I think I finally get it."

"Get what?" There was something about the look in his eyes, the confidence, the surety, that had me swallowing hard.

"You." And as he smiled, it was almost smug. "I get you, Oz. You're a little, Aren't you?"

If only I had known at the time just how much those few little words were going to change my life.

The Little Of Oz Series

<p>My fucking traitor body had. It had gone into full-blown pitch-a-tent mode, but I kind of managed to dismiss that. I was nineteen. Hormones were crazy. Hell, I had gotten a stiffie just from watching dog collar commercial. I think I had even gotten one just from the woman smiling in the toothpaste ad, once, too. </p>

<p>The work he had me do was piss easy, too. He didn't want me interacting with costumers, which was a definite bonus, so he had handed me a brush and told me to sweep the place out, and a duster and told me to attack the shelves. </p>

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