It was a daydream—he knew that much, although he could not remember what he was supposed to be doing. Images washed over his mind in waves. The beach, of course. White sand. A lounge chair facing the water, looking into the blinding sunlight. Into his field of vision sauntered a gorgeous leggy brunette. Red floral bikini and a matching sarong tied at her hips, just barely holding on. Kensi. The subject of all of his dreams.
She carried a bottle in one hand and lime wedges in the other. She stood in front of him for a few seconds until he motioned her to sit with him. She straddled his long legs and the chair with ease, and he felt the warmth of her sun-kissed body against his thighs. The light behind her was so bright that he almost had to turn away, but he just couldn't. Kensi pulled a shot glass from her bikini top, making him laugh. She sucked on a lime wedge, then kissed him ferociously. He found it hard to breathe, but then, she always left him breathless. He actually felt pressure on his chest, and thought to himself, "Deeks, man, you've got it bad!"
Her kiss lingered, and all at once he could breathe again, as if she blew air into him. Suddenly she broke away, pouring a shot of tequila right into his open mouth, making him sputter and choke. He coughed painfully, wondering if she meant to do that. He wanted to look her in the face to see if she was laughing or concerned, but that damn sunlight was so bright.
Was she squeezing his chest with her legs? Oh, man it hurt! He gasped for breath as Kensi's face seemed to contort and pulsate; fading until only the light was visible. The tide must have overtaken his chair because he was floating right into the sun now. Abruptly something pulled him back—was it Kensi? Was she mad at him? Who was stabbing his chest? Damn! The light was fading…
"We've got a pulse!"