“I wish I could touch you with my own fingers just once. Just to have the memory of your feel forever.” “What do you feel when you touch me with them now?” “Their warmth and their firmness. A hint of their texture. The same things I would feel with flesh, only lesser. It’s all…off.” “Your hands are not the only things you feel with.” Sam smoothed her other palm down his chest. “What do you feel when I touch you here?” “You,” he rasped softly.