Interview with Otis Ivory

Character Interview with Rockstar Otis Ivory
By Lashell Collins

Returning to the hotel after a quick trip to grab some lunch, I glance down at the time on my cellphone. I've got just enough time to regroup before my final Jagged Ivory interview. This time with the band's charismatic frontman, the infamous Otis Ivory. I have to admit, I've been looking forward to this one for a couple of reasons. Otis is, after all, a notorious womanizer, and he's just recently come off the tail end of quite a scandalous situation. So I'm anxious to gage his state of mind after all that.

I let myself into the hotel suite, eager to get ready for my fifth, and final interview with the men of Jagged Ivory. But the moment I turn around, I gasp, clutching my chest as I stop short and stare. Across the room peering out the window at the city below stands the figure of a man.

“Otis?”

Otis Ivory slowly turns from the window and smiles at me.

“What are you doing here? You're early!” I can't seem to control the slight irritation in my voice, but this is a shock. His smile only gets bigger as I venture further into the room.

He's wearing a nice pair of dark blue jeans and a snug-fitting plain black t-shirt, and something about his confident swagger is innately sexy as hell. His eyes never leave mine as he stalks his way toward me.

“The chance to spend a few moments alone with a beautiful woman who only wants to talk about me? Now why wouldn't I show up early for an event like that, Lashell?”

 

He takes my hand in his own and brings it to his lips, gently placing a kiss on the back of it. I admit, it's difficult not to melt under the weight of such attention, and I find myself smiling at him.

“Your room key.” He pulls the key card from his pocket and holds it out to me. I'm too stunned to move, and he cocks an eyebrow at me. “I was told to return it to you when I arrived.”

“Yes, of course.” It's the card I had Noah pass to Cory at the start of these interviews. I tuck it into my pocket as Otis smiles.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the chairs in the sitting area.

I don't know what kind of cologne he's wearing, but it's working for him. He smells good enough to eat, and I feel slightly off balance as I allow him to lead me over to the sitting area. I thought this was my show, but somehow Otis has managed to take over the reins and seize control.

“Can I get you a drink, Lashell?”

I take a seat and he smiles as he looks down at me. “No, thank you. Please, sit with me.” I gesture to the opposite chair as I try not to be drawn in by his sexy smile and crazy dimples. Not to mention those light green eyes. Pitted against the soft light brown complexion of his skin, his eyes are almost hypnotizing.

He takes a seat and looks me over. Slowly, as though he's mentally undressing me. I swallow in response and avert my eyes for a second. Interview questions. Right. I'm conducting an interview here. I have to pull it together.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Ivory …”

“Mr. Ivory? Since when are we so formal? I have spent a great deal of time inside that pretty head of yours, whispering in your ear, telling you my deepest and darkest. I don't think Mr. Ivory is at all appropriate for us, do you?”

“Otis.” My mind goes completely blank. Interview questions? What? A nervous laugh escapes me. “I'm sorry. I'm afraid you've thrown me off a little bit by arriving early. I'm feeling not at all prepared at the moment.”

He grins as he stares into my eyes, and I get the feeling he's enjoying having the upper hand here. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that was his plan all along. This is what Otis does, after all. Every encounter with a woman is a well thought out plan of attack. He rests his elbow on the arm of the chair and runs a single finger back and forth across his bottom lip as we stare at one another.

I close my eyes and look away for a second. “Otis? You wouldn't be trying to seduce me, would you?”

His lips kick up in a sexy grin. “Now why would you say that?”

My eyes widen as I stare at him, and he chuckles. “It just seems like you're flirting with me.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “So? Flirting is harmless.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Somehow it doesn't feel harmless coming from you. It feels almost dangerous.”

He laughs harder.

“Am I in danger here?” I ask with a smile.

“Only if you want to be, sweet thing. Only if you want to be.”

That smile, and those eyes … even his body language. Everything about Otis screams sex. It oozes from his very pores. One look leaves little doubt that he would rock my world for the night – or the hour – if I only asked him for it.

I take a deep breath and try to remember why we're here. “Three questions, nothing too involved or time consuming. Okay?”

“Whatever you want. I'm here for as long as you feel you need me.”

The implications of that statement immediately send my mind off and running with naughty scenarios. I had no idea the Ivory brothers were both such huge flirts. But where Noah seemed more playful in his coquetry, Otis is more deliberate. Perhaps that's because he'd be more likely to act on those innocent flirtations than his brother would. I quietly clear my throat and smile at him, feeling much more stable now. “First question. The readers want to know why you seem to have no set 'type' when it comes to female companionship.”

He smiles at me. “Oh, I am an equal opportunity lover, Lashell. Hair color, skin color, various shapes and sizes … I have no preference because I believe that all women are beautiful. I only wish that all women believed that about themselves.”

I can't help but smile as I stare at him. “You have just become the sexiest man on the planet with that one female-empowering statement, Otis Ivory.”

He smiles at me, and it lights up the room. “Well, I like to think I was already the sexiest man on the planet, thank you very much.”

I laugh and he follows suit.

“Okay, I want to switch gears for a moment and talk about something a bit more serious, if that's all right with you.”

He takes a deep breath and lets his gaze roll toward the ceiling before it lands on me again. “I knew we'd eventually get around to this shit. I just didn't know it would be so soon. I can't imagine your readers need any more information than they've already gotten on the subject.”

“Well, what they'd like most is just to get to know you a little better. I think at least touching on the subject might be a good idea, for them and for you. I promise, only one question.”

“What the hell. As I've said all along, I have nothing to hide.”

He has asserted his innocence from the very beginning. I nod at him. “Okay. So, now that things have finally begun to die down somewhat, what is the most important thing you feel you've learned from the whole sex scandal you've just been through?"

He crosses one leg over the other, resting his left ankle on his right knee as he readjusts in his chair. “What have I learned from it?”

He smirks at the question, and I get the feeling he's a little disgusted by it. But then something happens. The expression in his eyes changes. His jaw clenches for a second before he looks into my eyes again.

“I've learned a few things, Lashell. One, I've learned that when it comes to women, I have been a bastard at times. I'm not proud of that, but I've learned to own it. Two, I've learned that I can be a better man than I've been in the past. That is not only possible, it's become preferable. I like me a whole lot more now than I did before.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He nods his head. “I'm proud of the progress I've made.”

“You should be.”

“Thank you. And three … and this one's the most important. I've learned that real intimacy with one special person is infinitely better than a long stream of one-night-stands and meaningless sex. And, trust me, that is something I never thought I would say. But Brooke McKenna? She is one special lady, and she's been amazing through this whole thing.”

I can't help but smile at him. “I'm proud of you, Otis.”

His answering grin is almost bashful. Not a word typically associated with Otis Ivory.

“Thank you.”

“Okay, you ready for the final question?”

“The famous last question I keep hearing so much about.” He pauses and looks at me. “They won't tell me what it is, they just keep laughing about it.”

“Well, it's a pretty serious thing,” I say with a straight face. “Our readers specifically requested this question, so … you ready?”

“I am always ready, sweet thing. Fire away.”

That sinfully sexy smile of his is back, and I can't help getting sidetracked by it for a second. “All right, here we go. Boxers or briefs?”

He gives me a strange look, and my belly tightens and flutters with unease. Suddenly he stands up, and before I know what's happening, he undoes his fly and drops his pants. I stare, wide-eyed, at the sight of his snug-fitting, copiously bulging, black and tan, silk leopard-printed bikini briefs. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and tosses it aside, striking a pose so that I get the full effect. My jaw hits the floor, and I can't speak. Whether that's from shock, or because I can't get over just how beautiful he is, I don't know.

“Now, they're not always animal print, of course. But if you'd like, you're more than welcome to accompany me to my hotel room, where I'd be happy to model the entire line for you.”

 

His smug, cocky grin is both sexy and annoying. This man is my fictional character; he's not supposed to be able to shock me. Certainly not like this! But here I am, mouth open and speechless.

“Uh … I … well, I … I mean, um.” 

Must. Stop. Stammering. 

 

“Yeah, I'll just … take your word for it.” I force my gaze back up to his eyes. “Nice color. Animal print is really in right now."

So, there it is. My embarrassing nearly naked encounter with the ever sexy, always charming, infamous Otis Ivory. And let me tell you, it was hell watching him put his clothes back on! Be sure to add Jagged Surrender to your TBR List, or CLICK HERE to get your copy Now!

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