Camila has been trying for a baby for three years. Three years of timed sex, negative tests, and a husband who can't stay hard.

She tells herself it's the construction work. The double shifts. The stress. She tells herself it's her body, her fault, that she stopped being enough somewhere along the way. Six years married to Diego and she has learned to do everything right and still lie awake afterward wondering what is wrong with her.

The Caribbean resort is her last idea. Five nights, all-inclusive, sun and rum and no alarm clocks. A chance to get her sweet, quiet husband away from the job sites and remind him he wants her.

Then Diego books a fishing charter, and Camila is left alone at the swim-up bar.

That is where she meets Tyrone. Tall. Black. Built like he has never taken a rest day in his life. He calls her mami. He puts his hand on her thigh under the water, and for the first time in longer than she can remember, Camila does not move it away.

What happens in his hotel room that afternoon rearranges everything she thought she knew about her own body. One orgasm becomes three becomes a number she stops counting. And every time she says she cannot take any more, Tyrone just smiles.

"You been saying that all day," he tells her. "And you keep cumming."

The vacation has only just begun.